Nightingale's Song
by Ghiaman
Summary: A hospital ship struggles to survive when it gets caught behind the lines during the war with the Dominion. I hope you enjoy my first complete enovel, please leave reviews.
1. Anticlimax

**Chapter 1: Anticlimax**

Ensign Jordan Singer was bored. For the umpteenth time that day he set his course to intercept the small hospital ship and pulled the runabout McCoy away from the convoy. He looked at the line of warships he was leaving behind and sighed. The Federation grey of their hulls was blackened in some places where Jem'Hadar disruptors had scorched the paint. This was the closest he would get to the war.

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In the runabout's modified cargo hold, Sovek was annoyed, or would be if Vulcans felt emotion. He would prefer if the non-Vulcan medical staff kept their conversations on the job at hand. At the moment that job was in the converted cargo hold of the runabout, attending to the injured Starfleet personnel they had just taken on from the USS Calusa. Unfortunately, the male nurse assisting Sovek insisted on useless prattle.

"It really is an honor to be working with you, sir." The nurse told him, like every other Doctor and Nurse said to the preeminent Vulcan Doctor. "Your papers on the Tellarite physiology were brilliant. I can't believe you left the Medical Research Center on Vulcan to be a battle field doctor."

"My presence should be evidence enough to quell your disbelief." Sovek replied as he administered a pain killer to a badly burned patient. "My skills were needed here, so I came here. It was logical." As a rule, Vulcans don't lie, but deep down Sovek knew he wasn't telling the whole truth.

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"How do you say it again?" Crewman Akins asked Doctor Kizmet as he fished the wire he was looking for out from behind the dead computer console.

"Zonsopgang." She said the word slowly and over enunciated it. A day earlier the word would have echoed down the massive sick bay, but today it had been steadily filling with the wounded from the convoy.

"Are you sure that's the name of a Human colony?" The technician asked, his voiced muffled as he squirmed under the console.

Kizmet let out a small laugh, "I'm from there. The name is Dutch, it means Sunrise."

"I didn't even know you were human when I first saw you Doctor Kizmet."

"You can call me Kizzy, and I get that a lot. It's the skin and hair." Her skin had a very deep tan and here hair was a sun bleached blond. "Our star is much closer to Zonsopgang than the Sun is to Earth."

"I never knew that." Adkins said, closing up the console. When he did it flickered to life. "There you go, Kizzy. Now let's hope the other ninety-nine intensive care stations in this sickbay weren't wired as bad as this one."

"Or the five hunred extended care quarters." Kizzy joked back.

Adkins rolled his eye, "Well I guess I better get back to work."

As the technician sauntered on to his next job, Kizmet stepped up to the computer console. She pulled up a list of the ships in the convoy, and her humor left her. It wasn't there.

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The Nightingale was now very large through the foreword window of the runabout. Jordan thought it looked like a box with warp nacelles. The main hull was a kind of cylinder cut in half lengthwise. The flat of the half cylinder was the dorsal side of the ship. Sprouting out of the four corners of the dorsal hull were struts supporting the port and starboard warp nacelles. The nacelles were long, matching the length of the main hull. Stuck on the front of the ship, almost as an after thought, was the semi-ellipse that held the bridge and gave away the Nightingale as a Federation ship. It was function over form for the small Hippocrates class hospital ship.

Opening a channel Jordan repeated the words he had been uttering all day, "USS Nightingale, this is the Runabout McCoy Requesting docking clearance."

"Runabout McCoy, this is the Nightingale, request received and granted." The curt voice of Lt. Rosh replied, just as crisp and precise as the Andorian Executive Officer always mannered himself. Jordan could nearly see Lt. Rosh's perpetually ironed uniform and the fresh shine of his gleaming boots. The XO reeked of professionalism from head to toe. Jordan had suspicions that Rosh yearned to be on the frontlines as much as he did. But if he did, would never say.

The runabout was now heading directly towards the Nightingale's stern where the shuttle bay was nestled in between the ships two impulse engines. The windows briefly glowed as the runabout breached the force field that separated the artificial atmosphere of the Nightingale from the vacuum of space. There was a creek and a hiss as the runabout settled onto the deck of the shuttle bay and the pressure between the two ships equalized.

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Ensign Mathew Hudson stole a glimpse of the underside of the runabout as it touched down on the deck of the Nightingale's shuttlebay. The glow from the nacelles of the main engines faded as power was reduced and Hudson waved the waiting doctors and nurses in. The doors of the McCoy's modified cargo hold opened and the patients began pouring out under Sovek's direction.

"Is the runabout okay?" A voice asked Hudson from behind.

"Yeah, just checking it over." He replied, turning to meet the voice. He snapped to attention when he saw the gray haired man who had asked. "I mean yes, sir, Commander Marion."

Blake Marion smiled. He was amused by the military curtsies afforded him. "At ease Ensign Hudson. And it's only Lieutenant Commander." Marion tapped the rank insignia pips pinned on the collar of his uniform.

"Of course, sir." Hudson relaxed his posture, but not too much.

"And the um… transporter, when is it going to be repaired?"

"Our transporter is one hundred percent, Skipper. But the convoy ships are pretty beat up from their last battle. Fluctuations in their power systems could corrupt the matter stream during transport. Its an unlikely to happen, but using the runabouts eliminates that risk."

Marion nodded. "Keep up the good work then." He patted Hudson on the shoulder and moved away from the technical conversation that was far over his head.

He strolled over to Dr. Sovek. "How is our latest batch of patients?"

"Stable." The Vulcan replied. "But some will require much of our attention to regain their optimal health."

"They shall have it. After all, that's what we're here for."

Sovek's eyes focused on Marion's collar. "I find it curious your uniform has a blue collar. I am not entirely familiar with Starfleet's regulations, but I believe the Captain of a ship traditionally wears red."

"Traditionally, yes. However, I am the Chief Medical Officer in addition to the Captain. I believe on a hospital ship my duty as a doctor come first. Our battlefield is in that sickbay," Marion motioned to the mammoth space directly forward of the shuttle bay, "it's not like I will be ordering anybody to fire phasers."

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Jordan hopped out of the runabout from the cockpit door. He noticed the slight shift in gravity as his body crossed the door's threshold. Although all Starfleet gravity generators were normally set to the Federation's gravitational reference, slight variations in control calibration between the runabout and the Nightingale caused a small gravitational deviation that went unnoticed to all that were not anticipating it. The sensation was much more pronounced when stepping onto a planet where there were no artificial gravity generators, and rarely did any planet's mass correlate to the gravitational reference. But Jordan did not consider any of this, he simply noted that sensation.

Hudson met Jordan at the base of the runabout. "Hey Jordo, McCoy powered down?"

"Hey Hud. I can't power down until Sovek is finished with the medical equipment. Not all the patients have been unloaded yet." Jordan replied. "I just had to stretch my legs; I've been in that cockpit for eight hours."

"Well, that was the last run. Chief Reilly is bringing in the final load of patients from the convoy." The two friends strolled towards shuttle bay force field. The Phlox, the Nightingale's other resident runabout was still to far away to be differentiated from the long line of ships in the convoy.

Jordan was envious. "Look at them Hud, all of them going to war. And where are we going?"

"We're going to take these people to starbase, then we'll meet up with another convoy."

"And I'll be flying a runabout, ferrying another load of patients back here, safe and sound and all my actions inconsequential to the war." Jordan crossed his arms and looked at the deck.

"Hey, the sick and injured need treatment. If you don't fly them here, they don't get that treatment." Hud patted his friend on the back.

"It's easy for you. You're an Ensign and already a chief engineer."

"Jordan, that runabout has a more complex warpdrive system than this ship. Main Engineering is nearly as small as our quarters. Yes, I'm in charge of those engines, but Nightingale is more like a gloried shuttle than full blown starship."

"But you're still doing what you're trained to do. You're doing what you want to do." Jordan sighed. "I'm a bus driver, only a runabout or this glorified shuttle instead of a bus. Anyone could be doing my job. I want to be part of this fight. I want to be out there making a difference."

The two Ensigns looked up simultaneously at the flash of a ship coming out of warp. A moment later Jordan was contacted by the bridge, "Lieutenant Franks to Ensign Singer."

"Singer here. Go ahead _Lieutenant Junior Grade_ Franks." Jordan thought Franks was much more impressed with his position as operations officer than anyone else on board.

"Has the McCoy been powered down?" Franks asked.

"No." Jordan told him, unsure of what was coming next.

"Good." Franks' voice had a perverse joy in it. "The USS Noble has just arrived with wounded."

Jordan rolled his eyes. He had been counting on a break, but it looked like one more ride to the convoy that would inevitably leave him behind. "Understood" was all he could say before heading back to the McCoy.

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Kizmet was taking the vitals of one of the new arrivals when the PADD in her coat pocket beeped indicating the computer had updated the list of convoy ships. She pulled the PADD out of her pocket, but didn't look at it. Did she really want to be disappointed again? If it wasn't him this time, could she bear it? She had to know. She shut her eyes and raised the PADD level with her face. She took a deep breath and looked at the list.

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Sovek had finished unloading the patients and secured the medical hold for departure. Jordan was standing at the cockpit door and was about to touch the button that would close it, when he saw Doctor Kizmet rushing out of the large opening to sickbay. Jordan thought she was beautiful.

With Franks as his superior, Jordan's on-duty time was rarely gratifying. The Nightingale had no holodeck, no low gravity gym, no recreational facilities of any kind, so his off duty time was often less than entertaining. However, being assigned to the Nightingale didn't seem as bad when he was with Kizzy.

"Jordan, thanks for holding the door. Got room for one more?" Kizmet asked, a little out of breath.

Jordan realized he was staring, and quickly pulled himself together. "Sure." He said with a smile. "But all I can promise you is mundane trip out and back to that galaxy class that just warped in."

"That will do." Kizzy answered as Jordan helped her up into the cockpit.

The McCoy lifted off the deck, backed out of the shuttle bay, and gracefully turned towards the convoy.

As the runabout increased speed towards its destination Chief Reilly came across the comm. "McCoy, this is Phlox, request port to port."

"Phlox, this is McCoy. Copy that, port to port." Jordan replied.

"Singer, if you need me when you get back, I'll be in my rack." The Chief said before closing the comm.

Kizment gave Jordan a quizzical look. "What was that all about?"

"Oh, the Chief is just bragging about how he'll be in bed a lot sooner than me." Jordan explained.

"Bragging about being in bed?"

"We're heading into hour nine of this operation. I've spent a lot time in this chair today." Jordan said, fishing for sympathy.

Kizzy willingly took the bait. "Nine hours? Without a break? You poor thing."

"Well, it's a lot easier this run, since I have someone to talk to." Jordan was rewarded with broad smile from Kizmet. It lifted his spirits so much that he momentarily thought there might be a problem with the gravity generators.

The rest of the trip to the Noble flew by quickly. Jordan was not sure why Kizzy had wanted to come along on the trip. He knowingly deluded himself, deciding it had to be his charming company.

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As far as support craft go, a runabout is large. Even so the McCoy was dwarfed by the USS Noble. Docking clearance received, Jordan maneuvered the McCoy between the Noble's warp nacelles. The door of the main shuttle bay on the starship's saucer section began to open as the runabout commenced its final approach. Jordan felt a small thrill; this is what he imagined his first assignment would be like. He fantasized that he was returning to his ship, a starship, rather than just stopping by to pick up patients. As the runabout touched down on the deck, Jordan and Kizmet could see that their passengers were already being prepared for their trip.

"Look at them all; this is going to be a full boat." Jordan said, watching the stretchers begin to flow towards the medical hold.

Kizmet said nothing; she just stood up and leaned forward over the console to better see out of the window. Scanning the deck of the shuttle bay Kizzy's eyes finally found what they were searching for. Her mouth curled into a broad smile and pointed out the window.

"That's him!" She exclaimed.

"Who?" Jordan asked as Kizzy quickly crossed the cockpit and opened the door. Jordan rose and followed her, completely mystified as to what was going on.

Jordan was dodging antigrav stretchers and medical equipment as he followed Kizmet across the bay. With the crowd of patients, doctors, and nurses, he would have quickly lost track of Kizzy if it was not for her unique appearance, courtesy of her Zonsopgang heritage. She came to a stop in front of a human male. Jordan slowed his jog to a walk as he continued to close on the pair. Jordan stopped and just about fell over when saw Kizmet wrap her arms around the man and kiss him passionately.

After a few long moments Kizzy and the man parted lips. Several more moments passed as she and the man exchanges sweet words in whispered tones. Kizzy finally noticed the gaping Ensign Singer and called him over. "Jordan, come here. I want you to meet my fiancé."

Jordan took stock of the man, noting his red collar and the rank of Lieutenant pinned to it. Feeling very awkward Jordan stepped forward and extended his hand. "Jordan Singer."

"Jacob Millen." Kizzy's fiancé said shaking Jordan's hand.

"Jacob is a helmsman too." Kizzy interposed.

The conversation continued and Jordan was finding it harder and harder to continue smiling and acting as though he was enjoying himself. Jacob had been assigned to the Noble straight out of the academy. Jacob had been at the helm of the Noble as it covered the retreat of this very convoy, and then heroically escaped themselves. Jacob had Kizzy.

"Well, I'll leave you to alone. Let you catch up. Pleasure to meet you Jacob." Jordan excused himself and retreated to his runabout.

Easing back into the chair he had spent the majority of the day in Jordan felt more frustration with his assignment than ever. Through the forward window of the runabout, he could see his life as he wished it was. He wished it was Jacob's life.

Less than an hour had passed, but it might as well have been a week when Sovek reported the medical hold ready for departure. Shortly after that he heard Kizzy and Jacob fawning over each other just outside the cockpit door before saying goodbye. Kizzy popped into the cockpit all smiles and took her seat. Jordan found her joy all the more depressing.

The McCoy departed the Noble and headed away from the convoy one last time. The line of ships tightened up their formation with the USS Noble moving into the lead position. Jordan looked at Kizzy and then at the convoy. The formation of ships began to warp away, as did all of Jordan's hopes and dreams.


	2. What You Wish For

**Chapter 2: What You Wish For**

Jordan woke up to the sound of an alarm. He reached to the small control console on the side of his bunk to turn off the sound, there was no way it was time for his next watch. "Must have set the alarm too early", he thought. His hand finally found the console he pushed the control that should have turned off the annoying buzzing. The sound continued. Jordan pressed the control a second time, but still the sound persisted.

All of a sudden something grabbed and shook. He ripped back the small curtain that covered the opening in the wall to his bunk. He saw his roommate, Matt Hudson, half dressed and obviously excited.

"Jordo, wake up, wake up now!" Hudson yelled.

"Hud! Would you get your hands off me? What's wrong?" Jordan slapped Hudson's hand down.

"Don't you hear the damn alarm? We're at red alert!" Hudson zipped up his uniform and went looking for his boots. Jordan rolled out of his bunk and grabbed his own uniform.

"What's going on? We can't be under attack; we're too far from the line."

"I don't know Jordo, I've got to get to engineering." Hud dashed out of the room.

"I guess I better preflight the McCoy." Jordan said to himself, before heading off to the shuttle bay.

Jordan saw that the Runabout Phlox had already powered up. He climbed into the open cockpit door, where he found Chief Reilly finishing up his preflight procedures.

"Do you have any idea what this is about Chief?" Jordan asked.

"Ensign Singer, you are in the wrong Runabout. As for the red alert, we are going to extract injured personnel from MN-1375. Some barely M-class rock Starfleet installed a monitoring post on. Apparently the Dominion has discovered the monitoring post."

"Why can't we just extract them with transporters?"

"The genius of a ground commander deployed transporter inhibitors all over the surface so the Jem'Hadar couldn't beam down reinforcements." Reilly explained. "You should get the McCoy up and running, we've got another long day ahead of us."

Lieutenant Junior Grade Franks was at the helm of the Nightingale as it shot through space at warp speed. The bridge was diamond shaped with a door at one point and a chair and console recessed into a pit at the three other corners. The most forward pit was the Helm were Franks sat, the other two pits to the port and starboard both contained consoles that could be configured for engineering, tactical, or systems control. Centered in the diamond, on level with the deck, was the command chair, which had its own console that could be configured to control any of the ship's functions. The Nightingale's systems were simple in comparison to other ships. Even now at red alert only the command chair and helm were manned. Lt. Rosh found this a professional annoyance, but there were simply not enough of them to keep all of the bridge stations manned.

Franks was constantly conscious of Lt. Rosh who sat looking over the bridge. "Lieutenant Franks to Ensign Singer, why haven't you completed preflighting the McCoy?" He said into the comm. loud enough that Rosh would be able to hear his concern for his position as operations officer, even though the men he commanded resisted his authority.

"I'm bringing her online now, JG." Jordan's voice came across the comm. Franks hoped Rosh heard the utter insolence Singer took with him.

"Well, make sure it is ready before we arrive at MN-1375." Franks instructed.

"It'll be ready faster without further interruption, Singer out." Franks considered contacting Chief Reilly as well, but the Chief was even worse than Ensign Singer.

The McCoy had been ready to lift of for twenty minutes by the time the Nightingale arrived at MN-1375. Jordan made sure that he had made Franks aware of it as soon as he had finished the checklist. He then updated the status of his runabout at five minute intervals, "JG Franks, this is the McCoy, still prepared for flight operations." Franks found the updates somewhat less than helpful.

MN-1375 itself was somewhat less than impressive as M-Class rocks go. The conflict between Federation and Jem'Hadar was relegated to the northern and southern potions of the planet. From the equator to about thirty degrees of latitude either side of the great circle, the surface of the planetiod was too hot for even the Jem'Hadar, a race genetically bread for war and survival.

The monitoring post had been sacked and disabled. Federation forces were falling back. The only saving grace to the Federation troops on the ground was the two excelsior class ships that had arrived in the system to defend against the possibility of Dominion ships reinforcing the Jem'Hadar. The USS Mayweather and USS Calusa had fended off six Jem'Hadar assault ships so far, but the Dominion continued to send wave after wave.

The plan was for the Nightingale to extract the injured before the rest of the Federation ground troops retreated to the two starships defending the space above the planet. MN-1375 had been lost; the goal was to get as many as they could out alive.

The Nightingale and her runabouts were to be kept far from any fighting. Jordan set the McCoy down in the landing zone without incident. The Phlox followed moments later.

"Hope you don't have a weak stomach, Singer." The Chief's voice came across the comm.

"I don't know if Nightingale has a sickbay large enough for all of them." Jordan said, looking out across the barren landscape littered with a staggering amount of injured Starfleet troops.

The doors of the McCoy's medical hold opened and Doctors Sovek and Kizmet led twenty nurses out onto the flat of land where the injured had been gathered.

Kizzy winced, "That smell."

"Charred flesh," Sovek said indifferently. "Jem'Hadar weapons are designed to maim and kill."

Kizmet dropped to a knee next to the first victim she came to. The man's breathing was shallow, he twitched in pain, moaned almost inaudibly. His right arm had been blown off and the leg on the same side was hanging by a thin strand of tissue. The energy bolts from the Jem'Hadar weapons had torn through him as if they were a meat cleaver. She scanned him quickly with her tricorder, and then began to stabilize the patient for transport.

Kizzy turned when she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Lieutenant Commander Marion; he had come on the Phlox. He squatted behind her and whispered some advice into her ear. "We have little time. Don't just treat the first patient you come to. This is triage; we help the ones with the best chance of survival first." Marion patted her on the shoulder and then headed off to get to work himself.

Kizzy turned back to her patient. He wasn't twitching anymore. The vital readouts on the tricorder were flat lined. He was dead

Elsewhere among the wounded another man lay bleeding from a shot in the leg as Sovek attempted to stabilize him. The bleeding officer groaned and shifted in pain. On the screen of his tricorder Sovek saw the femoral artery in the man's right leg began to retract towards the abdomen. Sovek's hand shot down towards the open wound. He shoved his finger into the flesh and caught the artery between his thumb and fore finger. The man cried out in pain.

"Be as still as possible." Sovek instructed. He needed a medkit. His own was out of reach. "Nurse." Sovek called loudly, scanning his surroundings for anyone who could simply pick up the kit and place it in his free hand. As he turned his head from side to side he noticed that just below the foot of the man he had his hand is was a Vulcan officer craning his neck to see Sovek.

"Sir." The ailing Vulcan forced the words out of his mouth.

"I will be with you in a minute. Please hold on." Sovek assured the Vulcan who was growing paler with each passing moment.

"I shall use all my strength." The Vulcan did not take his eyes off of Sovek.

"Nurse!" Sovek's voice momentarily lost the emotionless monotone typical of his race, never breaking eye contact with the other Vulcan.

After what seemed like an eternity a nurse arrived to help Sovek. The doctor averted his eyes from injured Vulcan and concentrated on securing the artery he held. When Sovek looked back to the other Vulcan's gaze, the will for survival in his eyes had been replaced with the glazed over look of a corpse. Soveck scrambled toward the corpse and placed his hands on its face while closing his eye. The mind was as dead as the body.

Sovek stared back at the Nurse. After several moments he finally spoke. "This one is dead. We should move on."

In the cockpit of the McCoy Jordan watched another Personnel Carrier drop off new wounded from the battle that raged in another place on the planetoid. In the space above the planet two starships continued to repel intensifying waves of Jem'Hadar assault ships. Jordan was there, he was at the front, but the helm he sat behind was that of a runabout sitting on the ground. His orders were to sit with it. Sit and wait until the medical hold was full. Then, after ferrying the patients to the Nightingale, he would return the runabout to this very spot and wait again. People were dying, Jordan could see that happening before his eyes, but he could do nothing about it. His actions made no difference.

Jordan turned when he heard Nurse Haas entered the cockpit from the medical hold. She gave him a curt nod and exited back down to the medical hold. Jordan checked and saw the exterior doors were closed. He then opened a channel to the Phlox.

"I've got a full boat here Chief."

"Roger that McCoy. Don't be too long, I might get lonely." Chief Reilly answered.

The McCoy lifted off the ground and headed back the Nightingale. Once clear of MN-1375's atmosphere the McCoy picked up the three federation ships in orbit. For a moment the sensors registered a dominion ship as well, but soon it was just debris thanks to a well placed torpedo from the USS Calusa. Both the Calusa and the Mayweather, had sustained a fair amount of damage, but they held the line solidly. The Nightingale was unscathed, and as pristine as any Federation ship had been during peace time.

In the hospital ship's shuttle bay the medical staff stood ready to unload the McCoy's patients as quickly as possible. The moment the runabout set down the nurses and doctors began moving to the doors of the medical hold to unload the patients, and Jordan waited.

It was hard, it broke her heart, and as the hours dragged on it didn't get any easier, but Kizmet was taking Marion's advice. She passed by those that would die regardless of her help. She passed by those whose care would take up too much of her time and cost two or three others their lives. She passed by pleading looks and pained faces. Those who had the best chance for survival got treatment and a free ride on a runabout to the Nightingale, but many didn't.

Kizmet turned to see a runabout landing again yet again. It was Jordan's, the McCoy, if she wasn't mistaken. She had lost count as to how many times the runabouts had taken off and returned. It had been a long day and it was only getting longer. She pulled out her tricorder once again to find her next patient. Walking across the field of bodies she felt a hand on her ankle. She looked down to see a man of a species she had never seen before covered in blood. The alien's skin color might have been flesh toned under the brilliant red pool of blood. He didn't look like he was going to make it.

"Help me doctor." The man said through heaving breathed.

"Someone will be with you shortly." Kizmet said as she began to turn to find someone she could help. The man grabbed her ankle once more.

"A convenient lie, but I assure you I am not as injured as I appear." His voice was forceful. Kizzy could see the will to live, the need to live, in his eyes. "I am a Nevlian, I will not die from blood loss, my body will not allow it. However, I fear my third stomach may have ruptured. If you do not help me I will digest my own organs."

Kizzy scanned the Nevlian. He was right, his bone marrow was producing new blood at an incredible rate; he would not die from bleeding. It took a moment to figure out which organs were which in this new species. The Nevlian was right again; his third stomach had a small rupture and was leaking a highly acidic fluid into the lower abdomen. She pulled a tissue regenerator out of her med kit and went to work. The rupture sealed quickly. She put away her instruments and looked down at her patient.

"You're going to be just fine." She told him. "That was a really good self diagnosis. Are you a doctor?"

"No, I'm in intelligence. Thank you doctor, I owe you my life." He then lay back with a content look on his face. Kizzy called over a stretcher for him before continuing on to the next patient.

Chief Reilly was piloting the Phlox back to the Nightingale with another full load of the battle tattered Starfleet personnel from the landing zone, but this time the skipper himself, watched over them in the medical hold. For a moment the runabout's sensors registered an extreme spike in radiation, then it was gone. The Phlox was still in the atmosphere of MN-1375. Sometimes the ionosphere of a planet can play tricks on sensors, but Reilly quickly dismissed that theory. A planetoid this size wasn't capable of generating interference at the levels he had registered. He checked his sensors again, something was wrong, and it wasn't with the sensors.

"Nightingale, this is runabout Phlox. I'm not picking the Mayweather up on sensors, and I doubt she's hiding behind any bushes."

"Runabout Phlox, this is Nightingale." Lt. Rosh's voice came across the com. "The Mayweather has been lost. Lieutenant Commander Marion is on board your runabout, is he not?"

"Down in the slaughter house."

"Colorful description, Chief. Please patch me through to the CO."

"Aye, sir." Reilly replied.

In the medical hold Marion did little to keep the patients stable. His doctors and nurses had performed well in their duties, resulting in virtually no problems while transporting the patients through space. This is what the Nightingale was all about, saving lives.

"Lt. Rosh to Lt. Commander Marion."

"Yes, Mr. Rosh?" Marion had always found Rosh a bit trying. The Andorian was so militant. But he knew how to get the ship from one place to another, so he served his function well.

"Sir, one of our escorts, the USS Mayweather, has been destroyed." Rosh said matter of fact.

Marion contemplated the ramifications of the loss. "What about the other one?"

"The USS Calusa has taken damage. As of now her shields are holding at fifty percent and her captain assures us that he will continue to provide protection for the Nightingale."

"Fifty percent?" Marion looked at his stabilized patients. He didn't want to loose the lives they had already saved. "We should probably leave, shouldn't we?"

"There are still Starfleet personnel on the planetoid's surface that need our help."

"But who will help us if the remaining escort is destroyed? We should leave, recall the other runabout. Marion out." The Nightingale wasn't supposed to be operating this close to the front anyway, Marion thought. And he couldn't risk so many lives on the hope of saving only a few more.

Jordan was tired. He hadn't had a full night's sleep and as the hours of this operation dragged on consciousness was something that was becoming hard to maintain. Finally succumbing to the overwhelming weight of their lids, Jordan's eyes closed and drifted off to sleep.

"Nightingale to McCoy. Ensign Singer, respond!" Rosh's voice over the comm. startled Jordan awake.

"Sir, yes, sir!" Jordan said shooting up out of his chair and coming to full attention.

"Recall the medical unit. All personnel are to return to the Nightingale as soon as possible. One of our escorts has been destroyed and we are leaving the system as soon as you return" The XO instructed.

Regaining his bearings Jordan realized that what he had heard was the comm., and not Rosh himself. He relaxed his posture and took note of the runabout's status. "Lieutenant, the medical hold is not even half full. There are still people out there who require treatment."

"You have ten minutes to get that runabout off the ground. You know what you have to do." The channel closed.

Jordan ran to the door and leapt onto the planetoid's surface. The shift from the runabouts artificial gravity to MN-1375's lesser attractive force caused Jordan to tumble forward as soon as he hit the ground. He pushed himself up and went running towards the first person from the Nightingale he saw.

At the helm of the Nightingale Lieutenant Junior Grade Franks grew more anxious. The sensor read outs showed that the USS Calsusa's shields were at thirty percent and dropping. Without the protection of the escort, the Nightingale would be a sitting duck. And Franks had no desire to find out just how much more maneuverable a Jem'Hadar Assault ship was in comparison to the Nightingale. This monitoring station, it hardly seemed worth the effort the Dominion was throwing at it.

"The Dominion sure wants this rock badly. It must have some strategic importance." Franks speculated.

"The monitoring station has been destroyed, the planetoid has no useful resources, it's barely habitable, I don't think it's MN-1375 they want." Rosh said.

"Then what do they want?" Franks asked.

Rosh thought for a moment before answering. "I don't know."

Kizzy had finished stabilizing another patient and was moving on when she happened across Sovek. It was the first time she had seen him since they left the runabout together.

"Sovek, it's incredible, isn't it? That two societies that are so advanced could cause all this death. I feel... I don't know how to feel about this." Kizzy said.

"That society wields advanced technology, does not guarantee that the society is governed by a similarly advanced morality." Sovek explained. Then he added, "This experience is... new for me as well."

The two Doctors heard shouting and turned to see where it came from. Jordan was running in their direction. He was seemed to be hollering to nurses and wounded alike as he ran, but Kizzy could not make out what it was. Whatever it was it seemed to make the nurses work fast and the wounded to try to stand on their own.

"What do you think he's saying?" Kizzy asked Sovek.

"He is saying, 'Get to the runabout. We're leaving in ten minutes.'" Sovek's Vulcan ears could hear Jordan quite clearly.

Jordan recognized the two doctors ahead of him and increased his pace. Out of breath, he stopped in front of them. Through heaving breaths Jordan spoke. "We have less than ten minutes, you two have to get to the runabout."

"That's unacceptable; there are still a lot of people in need of our help here." Kizzy protested.

"One of our escorts has been destroyed, the other isn't doing well. The Nightingale has to leave now." Jordan urged them.

"The logical course of action would be to withdraw." Sovek agreed.

"But all these, people. We can't do anything for them." Kizzy pleaded.

Jordan thought for a moment, then stooped down and threw a wounded man near his feet over his shoulders. "Get as many of them as you can, but we're leaving in ten minutes." Kizmet and Sovek followed suite. It was not the best way to move injured people, but it was the fastest. And if it got them back to the Nightingale, it would increase there chance of survival. Soon the nurses were also abandoning any type of treatment in order to get as many bodies as possible onto the McCoy. Even some of the wounded, those strong enough to walk, were picking up their comrades and helping them to the runabout.

Rosh was growing impatient, the McCoy was still on the surface and the Calusa's shields were down to sixteen percent. As a secondary concern, Rosh had been informed that the Nightingale did not have enough space for the amount of patients they had taken on. The medical staff had moved all those they could into they patient quarters, but a good deal of them that were still waiting for treatment had been placed on stretchers on the desk of sickbay. However, finding space for the patients was not a top priority right now. Priority number one was getting out of this system with the ship still intact.

"Nightingale, this is Calusa. Get the hell out of here! We can't hold them off for much longer." The message was garbled, but its intent was perfectly clear.

"Lt. Rosh to Ensign Singer, get your runabout off that rock. I have no great desire to leave you behind" Rosh was insistent, but still had not lost his cool.

Jordan awkwardly tapped his comm. badge. It was a difficult task while carrying an uncounscious Denobulan on his back. "Singer here, understood. I'll be there." Jordan didn't even try to get the injured Denobulan into the cargo bay, he threw him into the cockpit as he himself stepped up into it. He got behind the controls and engaged the thrusters on their lowest setting.

Outside the runabout's thrusters had the desired effect. Kicking up dust and producing the unmistakable sound of a ship preparing to depart, the Nightingale personnel began flocking to the runabout. Kizmet, carrying an injured Trill, went to the cockpit of the runabout and heaved the Trill next to the Denobulan. She herself then entered the cockpit and glared at Jordan.

"There are still people out there, Jordan. We need more time." Kizzy insisted.

Jordan, already into the preflight sequence looked back as Kizzy, then at the Denobulan, who was beginning to hyperventilate. "He needs help." Jordan said pointing at the Denobulan, he then left his chair and hopped out of the cockpit again. Nurse Haas came running up to him.

She was shaking her head, there was no more room in the medical hold.

"Make room for them." Jordan ordered. "Put them in the cockpit, the passage way, the head, anywhere you can find." He said. Nurse Haas returned to the runabout to carry out his orders. Jordan then jogged off to the nearest wounded person and heaved them over his shoulders.

Now carrying a Bajoran, Jordan was stopped by Sovek on his way back to the McCoy. "Ensign, it would be prudent to expedite our efforts." The Vulcan then pointed off into the distance. Jordan squinted trying to see what Sovek wanted him to. He saw a dark line of people on foot in the distance.

"Can you see who it is?" Jordan asked the Doctor, fearing the worse.

"I have never seen one in person, but they match the description of Jem'Hadar soldiers."

"I'll get the McCoy ready. You make sure everyone still alive gets onboard."

"It is illogical for us to risk the runabout to help the few that are not yet aboard."

"We aren't risking the runabout, I am. And I will not leave until we get those people onboard. Logically it would beneficial if you do what I say." Jordan yelled.

"I shall contact you when it is done," Sovek relpied, "no one will be left behind."

Kizmet screamed when a body of a Bajoran literally flew into the cockpit. Shortly after Jordan heaved himself into the cockpit. He put his hand on the groaning Bajorn's shoulder. "Sorry." He said before heading to his chair and preparing the runabout for launch. He checked how much time had passed since he was ordered to leave, just past twenty minutes.

Kizzy finished stabilizing the three patients in the cockpit and then turned to Jordan. "Thank you Jordan, you helped a lot of people."

"You can save your thanks. I didn't stay because of you." Jordan retorted. This was the second time Kizzy had been in the cockpit of the McCoy, but this time it had not been her that Jordan held the door for.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Kizmet asked, confused as to why Jordan's personality seemed to have shifted one hundred and eighty degrees.

Jordan, becoming frustrated, searched for a reply when Sovek's voice came across the comm. "Soveck to Ensign Singer, all personnel accounted for with the exception of Doctor Kizmet."

"Thanks Sovek, she's up here." Jordan turned and looked at Kizmet. "It means we're leaving." He turned back to his controls and powered the thrusters to full.

In space the Calusa released a volley of photon torpedoes. The brilliant shimmering red objects flew through the ether abruptly stopping as they impacted a Jem'Hadar Assault ship in the ventral port bow. The explosions sent the small ship tumbling until the shattered vessel lost warp containment and was consumed by its own antimatter coming into contact with its inner hull. Another wave of Dominion ships had been stopped.

"Nightingale, we will not be able to stop another attack. You must leave now." The message was very weak, and thoroughly corrupted with static.

"Calusa, our last support craft is returning now. Thank you for your protection, we are preparing to leave the system." Rosh assured the Nightingale's protector.

"Nightingale, this is McCoy, request docking clearance." Jordan felt a wave of relef wash over him as the words left his mouth.

"Get that runabout onboard Singer. We'll talk about you're inability to follow orders later." Franks voice hissed across the comm.

Kizmet, who had monitored her patients silently in the rear of the cockpit throughout the flight, now leaned towards the side window. "What is that?" She said, finally breaking the silence.

Jordan quickly glanced back to the window. He saw the damaged form of the USS Calusa. "That's our escort."

"Not that. That!" Kizzy moved her head away from the window and pointed. Jordan had been paying to much attention to his approach to notice, but three new ships had appeared on sensors.

"Three more assault ships. No, it's two assault ships, and a Jem'Hadar Battleship." The Battleship easily out classed the Calusa. Jordan had a sinking feeling in his gut. There was a flash of light from the window.

"The Starship, it's, it's..." Kizmet sat down in an empty chair. "I wonder how many people were on board."

The runabout set down on the deck of the shuttle bay, and Jordan contacted the bridge. "Bridge, this is McCoy, we're docked. A little late, but docked." The McCoy's sensors then lost all contacts. The planetoid, the Dominion ships, all gone in an instant. The Nightingale had gone to warp.

Jordan opened the cockpit door and jumped down. He slipped and fell when his feet touched the ground. The smooth deck of the shuttle bay was covered by a slick film of blood in a path between sickbay and the runabout's berth. He helped Kizmet get the injured Trill, Denobulan, and Bajoran down to the deck. Nurses quickly came to aid the two wounded aliens. Jordan saw Hud standing at the end of the bay, watching the McCoy be unloaded. He walked over to his roommate and watched with him.

"How's the McCoy? Any problems?" Hud asked.

"No problems." Jordan replied.

"How about you, Jordo? Any problems?" Hud asked.

"I made it Hud. I made it to the front."

"That you did. How does it feel?"

"Frustrating. Those two Excelsiors…" He sighed. "If I had been there, maybe I could have made a difference."

Hud patted him on the back and nodded towards injured personnel being taken to sickbay. "To those people, you made a difference." Jordan gave a half smile to his friend. He appreciated what Hud was trying to do.

Without warning a siren began to sound and all lighted surfaces flashed red. For the second time in the same day the Nightingale was at red alert. Hudson moved to an information console on the shuttle bay bulkhead. His jaw dropped at what he saw.

"What is it?" Jordan asked.

Hud, mouth still gapping, looked to Jordan. "The Jem'Hadar Battleship. She's following us."


	3. Those Who Fight and Run Away

**Chapter 3: Those Who Fight and Run Away**

"Why are they chasing us?" LTJG Clark Franks asked, more to fill the unbearable silence than to actually receive an answer. His anxiety became greater and greater as the colossal Jem'Hadar Battleship and two smaller assault ships were quickly closing on the Nightingale, it was almost as if Franks could sense the distance between the two ships by the amount of fear he felt in his belly.

"Either we have something they want, or destroying our two escort ships did not quench their thirst for blood." Rosh replied from the command chair.

The words from the XO did not ease Franks' anxieties in the least. The JG had watched on the Nightingale's sensors as Jem'Hadar ground soldiers quickly and efficiently pushed back the Federation line. They were similarly relentless in space as assault ships had continued to appear in groups of two or three at a time. The Excelsior class escort ships that protected the Nightingale had fought well, but were eventually worn down by the constant attacks. But that was to be expected from them, he reflected. They were a race genetically engineered as warriors. They were not capable of fear, retreat, or mercy.

Rosh checked the console in the arm of his chair. The Battleship was gaining on them. The Nightingale's maximum cruising speed of warp seven was nowhere near enough to outrun their pursuer. Pressing a button in the console and poke into the air, "Lt. Rosh to Engineering."

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Main Engineering was located above and slightly forward of the Nightingale's shuttle bay. Like most spaces not dedicated to medical services, engineering was cramp. It had all the standard equipment found in any ship's Main Engineering, but in half the volume. In a departure from normal Federation starship design, the warp core of the Hippocrates class hospital ship was mounted horizontally beneath the Nightingale's dorsal hull. The dilithium matrix, which was the heart of every warp core, the location of the matter/antimatter reaction, was located in the middle of the space's overhead.

Whenever Matt Hudson was in engineering, he thanked his mother and father for not passing any genes that would have made him taller. At five foot eleven inches, the access hatch to the dilithium crystal assembly was only seven inches above his head.

"Lt. Rosh to Engineering." The XO's voice came over the loud speaker.

"Ensign Hudson here, go ahead sir." The chief engineer replied.

"I need more speed Ensign."

"I can get you point five, point six warp more, but that's it." Hudson began adjusting the antimatter stream, fully dilating the injectors, forcing the maximum amount of antimatter into the core.

"That Jem'Hadar Battleship is making warp nine. We can't outrun them at warp seven point six."

"It's physically impossible to move this ship any faster." Hudson explained. The increased plasma flow began to take effect accelerating the ship and causing it to vibrate slightly as the warp field teetered on instability. "There, we're at flank speed, sir. If we pump anymore plasma into the nacelles the warp field will destabilize."

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Not knowing where else he could go and be of any use, Jordan went to the bridge. As the doors swooshed closed a wave of disillusionment momentarily washed over him. A two man bridge crew, Jordan had a hard time getting over the way spacemanship seemed to be a forgotten step child on this vessel. Although the Nightingale was designed around its medical mission, some design considerations seemed to be directed squarely against the Starfleet officers in charge of keeping the ship spaceworthy.

"Ensign Singer, your inability to return the McCoy from the surface of MN-1375 in a timely manner almost cost us this ship. If we get out of this alive the first thing we will do is discuss your punishment." Franks always had a way of putting things that made Jordan want to punch him. He was sure that his slightly superior officer thought that this sort of belittling displayed a sense of professionalism and appreciation for the chain of command. If that was what was required to be a good junior officer, Jordan hoped that he was a lousy one.

"You weren't there _JG_, I did what I felt was right. Would you have let those people on the surface die?" Thinking about it now, Jordan hadn't made a choice. There never was any other option in his mind.

"How many died on the USS Calusa so that one runabout full of people could live?" Franks shot back. Jordan could feel himself tensing up. He searched for the words, but he knew that only his fists could talk for him at this point.

"Mister Singer!" Rosh yelled, surprising both of the young officers. "In the future I expect you to dress more appropriately for bridge duty." Looking down at his uniform, Jordan realized the amount of dirt and blood he had become covered in while assisting the wounded personnel on MN-1375. "I suppose I can let it slide this time, considering the circumstances. Please take the port station, and configure the console for tactical sensors."

"Aye, sir." Jordan replied, slipping into the nearby seat. He wondered, had Rosh been repressing a smile? No, of course not, there was nothing Jordan could think of that could possibly have elevated the stoic Andorian's mood in their present situation.

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LCDR Marion was in surgery, as were the other seventy-nine members of the medical staff. The Nightingale could accommodate five hundred patients at a time. There were quarters for four hundred patients, plus one hundred operating and diagnostic tables in sick bay. However, over six hundred people had been extracted from MN-1375. The overflow were placed on the deck between the operating beds, some where even left in the medical holds of the runabouts. They were given stretchers to rest on, and when those ran out extra pillows and sheets out of the medical staff's own quarters were offered. Marion was still proud of his hospital ship, but these extra patients needed to be off loaded to a starbase as quickly as possible.

"Laser scalpel." Marion said putting his hand, palm up, to the side. Nurse Haas placed the requested instrument in the Doctor's hand immediately. Marion lowered the scalpel to the patients flesh, but something in him hesitated as he was about to make the incision. An instant later everything began to shake. "Marion to Lt. Rosh." The annoyed CO said into the air.

"Rosh here." The XO's voice replied.

"Why is the ship shaking Mr. Rosh? It is extraordinarily risky to perform the surgeries our patients need under these conditions." Marion did not even try to mask the irritation in his voice.

"We are being pursued by Dominion warships. The vibrations are coming from our engines being run at maximum warp." The voice coming from the intercom, unlike that of the head surgeon's, showed no emotion.

"Is there anyway we could outrun them without endangering our patients?" Marion said, with the irritation leavening his voice. He had not been aware the ship was under any threat.

"We are not out running them, sir. At our current speed we will be overtaken in seventeen minutes."

Marion put the laser scalpel down and walked over to an information terminal on the wall. "Maybe we could hide somewhere. I've heard of starships hiding in nebulas and things." He called up a star chart of the sector and tried to make sense of the special phenomena depicted on the screen.

"One possibility, sir, but it is doubtful that it will provide a smoother ride." Rosh hesitated for a moment. "Our current course will take us close to the Badlands."

"The Badlands." Marion said. Even though he was not an experienced space fairer, the Doctor knew how hazardous the area could be. Populated by unpredictable plasma storms, the Badlands had become the final destination of more ships than anyone cared to remember. But looking at the star chart, Marion could see no alternatives. He reasoned that the medical care being provided to his patients would not do them any good if the Dominion ships were allowed to destroy the Nightingale. "Yes, that's what we should do. Set course for the Badlands Mr. Rosh. I'll warn the medical staff that operating conditions will not improve."

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"We might have more luck against the Jem'Hadar." Jordan muttered.

"You have a comment Mr. Singer?" Rosh asked.

Jordan thought it was incredible how the hushed remarks people make to themselves so often end up being heard as if they were shouted. The Ensign, his face reddened with embarrassment, turned to face the XO. "Sir, I was just considering the hazards associated with navigating the Badlands. Back at the Academy we got a hold of a Badlands program for the bridge simulator; no one I know was able to successfully complete the simulation." Franks looked back at Jordan with an alarmed expression, but quickly turned back to his console. "I hadn't had my primary flight class yet." Jordan added trying to abate the apparent hopelessness of the situation the ship faced.

"Trust in your training Mr. Franks. We will get through this." Rosh assured the helmsman.

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The Nightingale dropped out of warp as the ship approached the edge of the Badlands. The mass of the glowing orangish pink plasma storms became more defined the closer the vessel approached. The storms formed in layers, between which lied the only navigable portions of the area. The calm sections of space between the layers were narrow, and often columns of plasma between one storm and another would form, relieving differing charges between the energy squalls. Only two types of starfarers ever dared to navigate the Badlands, those who delight in facing death head on, and those who were so desperate to avoid death they chance the plasma storms.

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Chief Reilly stepped into the cramp space allotted to main engineering. Inside he saw Ensign Hudson moving from panel to panel, checking and rechecking systems.

"Stop looking for problems and relax while you still can. I'm sure every one of your consoles will be lighting up brighter than a nova star before long." The Chief said things like that a lot, telling you to relax while reminding you of the difficulties ahead.

"I suppose your right." Hudson replied, returning the panel he was at to its default configuration. "Is there anything I can do for you chief?"

"I actually came up here to see if I could help you out. I saw that all your techs have been commandeered as nurses."

"Chances are I'd have to send them there sooner or later, that medical equipment gets damaged pretty easily."

Reilly chuckled, "Most things do when exposed to fields of plasma or disruptor fire."

"There's a lot of that heading our way. Do you really think we'll make it, Chief?" Hudson almost felt ashamed of his question. He, a Starfleet officer, showing all his uncertainty and doubt to someone he was supposedly outranked.

The chief had seen the look in Hudson's eyes on the face of many crewman and officers before. It was the look of a young man realizing the dangers space actually contained. Reilly even remember a time when the expression probably crossed his own face. "There are some things we can control and some things we can't. But in the past months you've kept this tub running and you've done it well. There is nothing on the ship today that you couldn't have fixed yesterday. Remember your training, and if this is our last underway, we won't go down easy."

Not exactly the optimistic assurance of victory Hudson had been expecting. But some how the Chief's words did provide some comfort. Hudson knew the ships systems inside in out, he could practically build the ship from the ground up without ever looking at a blueprint, and that gave him a degree of control of everything that was about to happen.

A console lit up and began to chirp near the Ensign. He reached out and turned of the warning. "We've entered the Badlands."

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Kizmet had been relieved to be back aboard the Nightingale. Back in sickbay where she would not need to choose between patients, everyone would be treated. The comfort and safety she felt aboard the ship was short lived. Doctor Marion had just informed the medical staff that the Dominion was chasing the Nightingale and that they would attempt to hide inside some turbulent area of space. Kizzy didn't understand celestial phenomena, but she knew her patients were not much safer than they had been.

Regardless of how she felt, she tried to put on a positive exterior. Her patients needed to believe their doctor was confident in their survival and recuperation. Kizzy's fear of enemy ships and these badlands were just somethings she would have to keep to herself. Besides, this was a federation ship with Starfleet officers; surely they knew exactly what to do in times like this.

"Doctor." A weak voice called from a stretcher on the ground. "Doctor, I hear people saying that the Jem'Hadar are following us. Is it true? Are we going to die?" The voice belonged to a very young, very frightened crewman. The boy couldn't have been more than seventeen by Kizmet's estimate. She flipped open her tricorder and knelt down beside him.

"I heard that the ship escaped. That we're hiding in some type of plasma field and the Jem'Hadar will pass right by us." Kizzy told her patient as she scanned him. "As a matter of fact, the Captain of this ship told me himself." She added.

"Really? They're gone?" The crewman lied back on the stretcher and stared up at the ceiling. "I thought we were through this time."

"I'm going to give you something to help you relax. Try to sleep; you're going to be just fine." She said as she searched through a draw of medication.

"Here you are Doctor." A gray skinned man said holding a hypospray out to Kizmet. Kizzy took the instrument noting that is contained the relaxant she was searching for and had been set to the appropriate dosage.

"Thank you." She said after administering the injection, which quickly put the crewman to sleep. The gray skinned man looked familiar, but Kizzy she couldn't recall ever seeing a member of his species before. "Do I know you?"

"We met briefly while you were putting my stomach back together. For which I am in your debt." The man explained.

"The Nevlian?" Kizzy held up the hyposray. "This is exactly what I was looking for, right down to the dosage. Are you sure you're in intelligence and not medicine?"

"Quite sure, but I did study biochemistry for a time. The knowledge comes in useful in my particular line of work. And please, call me Esco." Esco smiled as if he was laughing at a private joke.

"Doctor Kizmet." Kizzy said. She still felt that there was something different about Esco from the first time she had seen him, besides the fact he was now fully healed. It then dawned on her, "I could have sworn your skin was lighter."

"It was. I sometimes forget that dynamic pigmentation is not a trait shared by many outside my race. When I don't think about it I usually take on the hue of my surroundings." Esco waved his hand in the direction of the bulkhead.

"Dynamic pigmentation?" Before Kizmet finished the question the Nevlian's grayish skin, which was the color of the sickbay's walls, warmed into a darkly tanned flesh that matched her own.

"Does this hue provide better fit your expectations?"

"You can will your skin to a desired color? You have far surpassed any expectations I may have had." Kizzy was immensely interested in Esco out of a purely professional curiosity. "You'll have to excuse me now, I must return to my patients."

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"Jem'Hadar Assault ships closing on our position." Jordan Reported.

"The Battleship?" Rosh inquired.

Jordan shook his head. "Sensors aren't so good in here, but it looks like the Battleship is remaining outside the plasma storms."

Rosh's gamble had worked to a degree. The Nightingale had no hope against a Jem'Hadar Battleship, however he now estimated that they could survive for at least two minutes after coming into weapons range of the assault ships. Two minutes plus whatever time he could keep the ship ahead of their pursuers, that was the time afforded Rosh to figure out how a hospital ship could defeat two Dominion warships. At present there was only one, ineffectual, course of action that came to his mind. "Mr. Singer, charge phasers."

Only feet forward of Rosh Lieutenant Junior Grade Franks was in disbelief at what he was doing. No one had ever described the Nightingale as graceful, and the reasons for this lack of praise were utterly apparent to the JG at helm. Plasma columns were forming at random all around the Nightingale. Even at half impulse it took all of Franks' concentration to keep the ship clear of the volatile eruptions.

"They're closing fast. Franks you have to increase speed to full impulse." Jordan urged from the port station.

"The plasma columns are forming to fast. The ship can't respond quickly enough at that speed." Franks protested.

Jordan studied the sensor read out in front of him. "Look, there's a swirling in the plasma field before a column forms. Look for them and it'll give you a little more time to respond."

Rosh consulted his console. Even at full impulse the Assault ships would overtake them, but it would give them time, precious time. "Do it Lieutenant, engines to full."

"Aye, sir." Franks hesitated for a moment with his hand over the control. He took a breath and increased the Nightingale's velocity to full impulse. The speed did not come immediately, but rather gradually grew. As it did the turbulence the ship was experiencing grew with it. Every time differing charge was relieved from the formation of a plasma column, the energy disturbance surrounding the phenomena would hit the shields of the Nightingale and send tremors through the ship. Franks tried to give each column a wide berth, but at full impulse the ship was passing the disturbances with increasing frequency and decreasing distance.

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The tremors in sickbay had increased significantly. Logic would indicate that one of to things had transpired: the ship had entered an area of more intense plasma storms, or the ship has increased its velocity. Sovek presumed the cause of the tremors to be the latter; it seemed the more logical of the two considering the ship was being perused.

"Sublight engines are at full." Sovek's _nurse_ commented, confirming the Doctor's suspicions. The engineering crewman who was attempting to lend a hand as medical assistant almost hindered Sovek more than he helped. Crewman Adkins answered every request Sovek had for an instrument with 'what does that one look like?', and even with an accurate description the technician managed to provide the Vulcan with the wrong tool. Sovek would have dismissed him entirely if not for the one advantage he did bring. The medical systems integrated with ships power had already begun to periodically fail under the influence of the Badlands. However Crewman Adkin's intimate knowledge of the systems and quick reaction to malfunctions had enabled Sovek to work nearly uninterrupted since he had returned from the surface of MN-1375.

"Osteo-regenerator." Sovek commanded Crewman Adkins.

Adkins studied the tray of instruments while his hand hovered a short distance above the medical tools. He finally decided on one and put it in Soveck's hand.

"Osteo-regenerator." Soveck repeated.

"Uh… Oh yeah, this is the one." The engineering technician took back the instrument he had previously handed the Vulcan and replaced it with the correct one. With the osteo-regenerator in hand, Sovek returned to the procedure at hand.

Behind the Vulcan two nurses had just laid a new patient on the operating table. The doctor in charge of that particular operating space was busy elsewhere. The new patient reached for the nurses that were leaving to attend to their next patient. "No, don't leave." He cried, but the nurses did not hear him. His eyes darted about until they found Doctor Sovek. The man stretched out his arm and was able to touch the Vulcan's back. "Please, help me."

"Each patient has been evaluated and is being attended to by their need." Sovek replied, not turning away from his work.

The patient grasped the fabric of Sovek's clothes. "I heard what they said, the Jem'Hadar, they're after us. I have to get out of here. You need to make me better so I can get out of here." The patient's voice became more frantic with each word.

Sovek paused in his work and turned towards the frightened patient. "Calm yourself. You will be treated, but you must wait while we attend to the higher priority patients." The practice Sovek had run on Vulcan was always filled with much more orderly patients; the patients here were so… emotional.

"I have to get out of here now! You have to help me!" The man was becoming hysterical.

As Sovek looked down at the man he could not help but think of the calmness that noble Vulcan faced death on the surface of MN-1375. Sovek raised up his hand, pressing his fingers together and making it flat. It came down hard across the man's face. The smack sounded like a shot, and all went silent. Everyone in the vicinity turned and stared, including the man who now rubbed his cheek and stared in disbelief. "Better men than you have died waiting for treatment today, and they did so silently!" Even Sovek was surprised at his tone. He collected himself and spoke again. "A doctor will be with you shortly, I assure you." The Vulcan then returned the patient he was currently treating.

"Hypospray." Sovek said to Crewman Adkins, extending his hand to receive the instrument. Adkins simply stared in bewilderment at the Vulcan doctor. "Hypospray." Sovek said again. Adkins shook his head and turned to the instrument tray. He placed the hypospray in the doctor's hand, still not saying anything. Sovek turned back to his patient. 'It was logical,' the Vulcan thought. 'He needed to be silenced and he was. My actions were logical.'

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The Jem'Hadar Assault ships drew ever nearer. As the distance between the Nightingale and its pursuers shrank the lead Dominion vessel steadied its course before a blinding blue beam leapt forth from its forward disrupter and connected with the hospital ship's starboard stern.

"Shields down to eighty percent." Jordan reported to Rosh.

"Two minutes." Rosh muttered to himself. "Return fire." The Andorian then commanded.

Jordan confirmed the positive target lock and fired both the dorsal and ventral phaser banks directly aft. His shots hit the center lead assault ship's bow. "Direct hit, the lead ship's shields are at ninety-eight percent." Jordan almost didn't believe the number when he said it. They might as well be throwing rocks at the Jem'Hadar, it would do about the same amount of damage.

"Mr. Franks, maneuver the ship in as evasive a pattern as the plasma storms allow." Rosh instructed aloud, while he silently curse the engineers who designed this ship without the capability to fire torpedoes. His private concerns were not only shared but voiced by the two junior officers on the bridge.

"If only we had a few photon torpedoes, or something to force them to back off." Franks complained from the helm.

"The only antimatter you'll find on this ship is in the warp reactor." Jordan pointed out. "And we can't fire that at them."

"That isn't entirely accurate Ensign Singer." Rosh said as the ship rocked again from another disruptor blast.

"Shields down to sixty-seven percent." Jordan read of his console. He then asked, "What isn't accurate, sir?"

Rosh did not answer; he was considering something very carefully to himself. He then touched his comm. badge, "Rosh to engineering."

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Ensign Hudson and Chief Reilly were rerouting what power they could to the shields when the call from the bridge came through. "Hudson here." The chief engineer responded.

"Ensign, is it possible to eject one of the antimatter pods?" Lieutenant Rosh's voice asked from the overhead speaker.

"We only have two, sir." Hudson replied.

"I know how many pods we have ensign. I asked if you could eject one into space." The usual calm in Rosh's voice was now laced with an urgent undercurrent.

The slight change in the XO's voice did not go unnoticed by the young ensign. He quickly reviewed the procedure in his head before replying. "Yes sir. All I'd have to do is disconnect one of them from the reactor and open the ventral service hatch."

"Then do it." Rosh ordered.

Hudson looked at Chief Reilly uneasily. The chief smirked and said, "Mind if I tagged along? I've never ejected an antimatter pod before."

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The bridge rocked again. "Shields at fifty-three percent! Try not to get hit by every one of their shots JG!" Jordan yelled.

"Do you think you could do any better dodging these plasma columns forming out of nowhere and the Jem'Hadar disruptors?" Franks spat back.

Rosh intervened before Jordan had a chance to respond. "Mr. Singer, Status of the Dominion ships."

Jordan had to scan his console for the answer; he had been avoiding watching the numbers, telling himself that each shot from their phaser banks did some good. "The lead ship's shields are at ninety-one percent. The other is undamaged." Hearing himself read aloud the advantage their pursuers held over them made the Nightingale's situation all the more menacing.

'One minute.' Rosh thought to himself before tapping his comm. badge. "Rosh to Ensign Hudson, where's my antimatter pod?"

------------------------------------------------------------

Hudson was sprinting down the service corridor beneath the shuttle bay; following about ten meters behind was the Chief when Rosh's voice sounded over the comm. "We're working on it, sir." Hudson hollered through heavy breaths. He half slid half fell on top of the access hatch to the antimatter storage bay. He rotated the locking handle and pulled the hatch open in one fluid motion. The Chief Engineer was already climbing down the latter when Reilly made it to the access hatch.

"Now I remember why I never ejected an antimatter pod, I hate running." The Chief huffed as he started down the latter.

The bottom rung was only five feet from the bay's overhead. It left the climber on a small ledge just above the two large antimatter pods that held the fuel Nightingale's main reactor. The bay was located directly along the ship's _keel_. The antiquated term referred to the principle structural member of sea-going ships. Almost without exception this was also the part of the ship that sat lowest in the water. Squatting on the ledge Hudson's hands flew across the wall console as he prepared a pod for ejection.

"What can I do?" The Chief asked, sitting on his haunches next to the Ensign. Both men were momentarily thrown of balance when the ship suddenly began to rock as another disrupter blast hit the Nightingale.

Hudson did not take his eyes off the wall console, but dropped one hand to small tool locker near the deck and pulled out a large auto-wrench. He handed it to the Chief and said, "When I tell you, detach the port pod from the valve assembly."

Reilly shifted to a prone position on the ledge, and fitted the auto-wrench around the collar of the pod. There was a _thunk_ sound and a dim bluish glow came over the bottom of the bay beneath the pods as a force field was activated along the surface of the ventral service hatch. A moment later the doors of the hatch spread open and the Chief was staring directly into the field of plasma beneath the ship.

"Mr. Hudson we need that pod now!" Rosh shouted over the comm.

"It's on its way." Hudson replied while opening a panel in the bulkhead to reveal two mechanical levers. He grasped the port lever and turned to the chief. "Now!" He ordered. Chief Reilly squeezed the control on the handle of the auto-wrench and the tool's head began to spin furiously. At the same time Ensign Hudson pulled down on the lever, disengaging the magnetic lock that sealed the pod to the valve assembly. The pod began to sink down and the glow of the force field in the bottom of the bay intensified the container passed out of the ship into open space.

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"Shields down to twenty-six percent." Jordan reported as the ship quaked again.

"Never mind that now." Rosh instructed. "Keep your mind on the task at hand."

"Aye, sir. Targeting phasers." Through the interference Jordan found the point he had to hit. "Phasers locked."

"Don't miss." Franks muttered quietly.

Rosh stared intently at his console, waiting for the right moment. The Assualt ships were almost on top of the pod now. Rosh waited half a moment longer, then barked the order, "Fire!"

Jordan pressed the phaser control immediately, a glowing red beam blasted backwards towards the small pod. Even before the phaser beam was terminated the antimatter in the pod began to annihilate the matter of its container, giving off the impression of a brilliant white flower with a long glowing red stem hanging off the stern of the hospital ship. An instant later the whimsical image was gone, replace by a display of antimatter's true unbridled power. All aft facing sensors were blinded as energy at every frequency they could registered surged at them as unannihilated antimatter found the hull of the lead Jem'Hadar ship.

"The lead ship has been destroyed." Jordan reported when the sensors finally came back into focus. "The remaining ship's shields are down to sixty-four percent. We did it, sir!"

"We almost did it, Mr. Singer. There is still one more ship to contend with." Rosh clarified, while considering his next move.

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"Now that was something." Chief Reilly said, getting up off his stomach and squatting next to Hudson on the cramp ledge of the antimatter storage bay.

"Yeah." Was all Hudson could think to say in reply. Looking at the empty space where the pod had been moments before the Chief Engineer reflected, "We just dropped a lot of antimatter. That pod had a supply that could have powered us for a year and a half."

"We still have half a tank." The Chief said, letting a slight smile creep across his face.

"Rosh to Ensign Hudson." The XO's voice rang out around them once again.

"Hudson here." The Ensign answered.

"Would we still be able to fire phasers if we ejected the other pod?" The question hung in the air for a few moments before Hudson even attempted to reply. He could barely believe what he heard, never in his short engineering career had he thought that he would be jettisoning a ships supply of antimatter.

In his mind, the young engineer ran through the numbers: the injector reservoir would have about a five minute supply of antimatter left in it once the pod was ejected, after that was consumed the reactor would shut down and the auxiliary power would kick in, that would maintain primary power anywhere from twenty to thirty minutes, after that everything but the most vital systems, like life support and the impulse engines, would loose power. "Yes." Hudson finally said. "But we'll begin to losses no essential systems about a half and hour after we eject the pod, including the majority of the medical equipment in sickbay."

"Understood." Rosh said. "Eject the pod."

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On the bridge Jordan was reading himself to detonate the second pod when his console lit up with warnings. He had been monitoring the plasma storms on a secondary display. The Nightingale had just missed a forming plasma column by two hundred yards, only a hair in terms of stellar distances. "Hey! JG, you almost hit that last plasma discharge!"

"The storms are getting denser. Those columns are forming faster." Franks spoke fast. He was franticly trying to keep the ship out of danger. His skills where at their limit, that and a little bit of luck had kept the ship away from the dangerous plasma columns. The ship then lurched again as the Nightingale's stern was hit again by the disruptors of the perusing assault ship.

"Mr. Singer, mind your post." Rosh commanded. The Andorian was watching the second pod drift free from the Nightingale on his console.

"Shields at eighteen percent." Jordan read off his screen. He then accessed his targeting scanners and located the small pod drifting through the ether. "Pod targeted and lock."

"Fire!" A instant after Rosh's order the sensors once again were blinded once again as the antimatter pod was detonated by the Nightingale's phasers. And the bridge seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief while the sensors were coming back into focus.

The relief was short lived. As the static gave way to a clear view Jordan's targeting scanners immediately picked up the Jem'Hadar Assault ship, fully intacted.

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"The Runabouts." Chief Reilly stated. It was an odd thing to simply say, unsolicited, but it was an odd thought that struck the chief.

"What?" Hudson asked, not able to draw any semblance of a logical thought from the chief's statement. The two men were still in the antimatter storage bay. The Ensign was closing the doors to the ventral service hatch while the Chief looked on.

"The Runabouts have matter/antimatter reactors." The Chief elaborated, slightly.

"Yes." Hudson replied still not following the Chief's line of thought.

"Then they have to have antimatter pods, smaller that the Nightingale's, but still enough to provide more than a half hour of main power." The Chief said, finally completing the train of thought that had motivated him to make his first odd statement.

"Yes, yes that's right!" Hudson said with excitement. The ventral service hatch shut and the Chief Engineer started up the latter. "Come on Chief, I'll need your help."

"I really should have gone to help out on the bridge." The Chief mused. "It would have been a lot less work."

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The mood on the bridge was one of despair. Everyone on the ship was relying on the bridge crew to make the right decisions, their success and their failures ruled the fate of all others. Jordan once again felt like a spectator to the battle, he had no control over what was happening to the Nightingale. His phaser banks did inconsequential damage to the perusing ship, there were no more antimatter pods, as far as the ensign could see, this ship was out of options. Jordan was so concerned with his uselessness that he almost missed it, a swirl in the plasma field. "Franks! Plasma swirl off the port bow, alter course to starboard!"

The helmsman did not answer. He was concentrating on other parts of the storms and did not notice the indications of the impending column.

"Franks! Alter course to starboard now!" Jordan said again louder.

Rosh could see the swirl Jordan warned of gaining in strength. "Helm, hard to starboard!"

Franks was shaken out of his tunnel vision and was suddenly aware of the imminent danger. He threw the controls as far to the right as possible, the ship responded just in time as the bow inched out of the plasma column's reach.

The rate of turn continued to increase and Jordan sensed a new problem. "Hard to port, you're going to swing the stern into the column!"

------------------------------------------------------------

Hudson and Reilly were not halfway down the service corridor when the ship shuddered and rocked so violently both men were knocked of their feet.

"That felt like a hull breach." The Chief said.

Hudson scrambled to his feet and accessed a wall console. "The port nacelle has been ruptured, there are plasma fires on multiple decks." He read off the display. Then, tapping his comm. badge, he ordered, "All engineering personnel, fires port stern, execute damage control procedures."

"Looks like the antimatter will have to wait." The Chief said to himself as he and the Ensign started for the damaged areas of the ship as quickly as their legs could carry them.

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Franks was frozen, his nerves had been shattered along with the port warp nacelle. Rosh was barking out orders to turn the ship, but Franks just stared ahead, unable to respond. He was responsible for the current damage to the ship and the weight of that responsibility made his hands to heavy to move.

Jordan saw that the ship was now heading directly towards another column of plasma. He refused to be a spectator to his own death and the destruction of the Nightingale. He leapt out of his chair and was at the helm in two steps. He grabbed Franks under each arm and ripped him out of his station. Jordan then assumed the post himself. "Permission to relieve the Helm." The ensign requested as he began manipulating the controls.

"Granted." Rosh replied, but Jordan had already begun to divert the ship's course, dodging the plasma columns that could easily destroy the ship.

------------------------------------------------------------

"There, that should keep your systems on line for awhile." Crewman Adkins said, closing the access panel. A lot of equipment had shut down in sickbay when the hull was breached. Adkins had immediately diverted power for Sovek's equipment around the damaged areas. "I've got to go now."

"I appreciate you assistance." Sovek commented, not looking up form his patient. Adkins then hurried out of sickbay towards the damaged nacelle.

As the Crewman ran down the passage way he notice how it was beginning to fill with smoke. He came to a hatch to the Jeffries tubes and crawled into the small opening. Just inside the opening he grabbed an oxygen generating mask and a fire extinguisher. Adkins then began to crawl towards the thickest smoke, searching for the flames that produced it.

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The Chief Engineer was at the edge of the damaged area, directing his technicians to head off the worst of the fires. Chief Reilly stood next to him, offering advice when he could. The smoke was thin enough to breathe through here, but still think enough to make it hard to partially obscure their visibility and cover their uniforms in soot.

"We don't have enough men to contain this. The fires are spreading too fast. The heat could start knocking out other systems." Reilly said.

"Yeah, this conduit here provides power for half of sickbay, and it's already beginning to over heat." The Chief Engineer stared at the display searching for a solution. "If we could isolate this section here," Hudson said pointing at the display, "we could depressurize these spaces and suffocate the fire." Reilly nodded in agreement and Hudson began directing his technicians to the appropriate positions.

------------------------------------------------------------

Part of Jordan actually found it fun, the slaloming through the plasma columns. He noted that the simulation he had tried back at the Academy was a poor representation of the actual Badlands. It was easier out here in real space. There were little things, like the direction turbulence came from and its intensity, which gave Jordan cues as to where the next plasma column could form. He could feel the safest course in his body, and he easily guided the Nightingale to it.

Rosh had no levity what so ever. Things have gone from bad to worse and he was out of options. They had ejected a three year supply of antimatter, the ship was burning, and to top it off one of his officers was sitting in the corner of the bridge holding his knees to his chest staring blankly at the deck. Not exactly the finest hour for a federation ship. Rosh did not have much hope left for the ailing hospital ship, but that did not mean others need share in his despondency. "Good work Mr. Singer. Keep it up, we'll beat them yet."

It may have been Rosh's words of encouragement, or maybe the young Ensign had just been emboldened from seizing control of the helm. But in the absence of any other suggestions from his senior officer and no other alternatives Jordan saw one possible course of action, one chance for survival.

------------------------------------------------------------

Reilly was following Hudson into the Jefferies tube. "I really should have gone to the bridge instead." The Chief muttered as he forced his protesting joints to continue crawling. "What is it we're doing again?"

"When the plasma column ruptured the nacelle it also severed a bunch of hydraulic lines, so we can't shut all of the isolation hatches remotely." Hudson explained.

"So before we let the air out of these spaces, we have to shut all the doors." The Chief came back.

"Exactly." Hudson replied. After a few more words he and the Chief split up. Reilly headed further down the same Jefferies tube to that deck's isolation hatch, while Hudson climbed up to the hatch on the deck above.

Chief Reilly reached his assigned hatch and out of habit pressed the lighted control pad that would have sent the hatch swooshing shut had the hydraulics been in order. Grumbling he removed the control panel to reveal a large lever. In the tiny crawl space it was difficult to get into a position that would allow Reilly enough leverage to muscle the handle down, but it wasn't impossible. With his back against one wall of the tube and his bent legs pressing his feet against the other, the Chief yanked the lever closing the doors a third of the way. "For the love of… You'd think they'd help you out a little with these _emergency_ systems." The Chief cursed at the lever as he yanked it twice more until the hatch was full shut and sealed. Sitting back and wiping the sweat from his brow Reilly tapped his comm. badge. "Reilly to Hudson, all battened down here."

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"Roger that, Chief." Hudson said from the deck above. With the Chief reporting in that left only one outstanding tech. "Adkins, what's the hold up?" Hudson hollered.

------------------------------------------------------------

The young technician was near the heart of the fires. He had battled small blazes all the way to his assigned hatch. The smoke was thick and stung the crewmen's eyes, luckily the lighted buttons allowed him to locate the control panel and remove it. "I'm there now, sir." Adkins grasped the manual lever and pulled it down. The hatch doors did not move, instead a liquid erupted from the base of the handle and spilled over Adkins out stretched arm.

------------------------------------------------------------

"It's no good, sir. The emergency hydraulic accumulator has ruptured; I just got a handful of hydraulic fluid." Crewman Adkins' voice came across the comm. Hudson slumped in the Jefferies tube. It would take time to seal off the entire section ahead of that hatch, too much time.

------------------------------------------------------------

Chief Reilly exited the Jefferies where he had entered it. He stretched and dusted the soot the smoky tube had left on him. Looking at the wall consul he and Hudson had consulted earlier he became uneasy. "Hudson, that overheating power conduit is approaching critical temperatures." He didn't remind the Engineer that 'they had to get the fires out now' or 'if that conduit blows you can kiss the ship goodbye'. The Chief recognized this was no time to remind the engineer of what he already knew; the ensign didn't need to hear about the severity of the problems when he was looking for solutions.

------------------------------------------------------------

Sitting in the Jefferies tube, Hudson knew how to close the hatch. He knew there where the second emergency accumulator was, but he wasn't sure if he could bear giving the order.

------------------------------------------------------------

The part of Jordan that found dodging the plasma storms fun was now being overpowered by the reality of what a mistake would cause. Franks' run in with the plasma column could have caused a relatively small amount of damage to the ship compared to what could have happened. Jordan did no doubt his ability to slalom the ship around the columns, and he knew he would not have clipped the column Franks did had he been at the helm, but what the ensign now had in mind would require all of Jordan's ability and perhaps more than he possessed. He checked his sensors, and found what he had been waiting for. With a deep breath he steadied the Nightingale's course.

Rosh's mind was a ball of clay, he could think of nothing, absolutely nothing that Nightingale could do against the remaining Assault Ship. All he felt was left for the ship was time and prayer. Staring at the view screen the plasma storms held a terrible beauty. The unbridled energy danced around on all sides of them, and directly in front of them Rosh saw it. "Plasma swirl! You're heading right into it Singer!" Rosh cried coming to his feet.

"I know." Jordan replied. "I think we can make it."

And Rosh suddenly saw what Jordan saw, a chance.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Do it son, it's the only way." Chief Reilly said to himself looking at the console. He now could see how the last hatch could be closed, and he knew what it meant Hudson would have to do.

------------------------------------------------------------

Hudson was close to tears. He liked Crewman Adkins, he was a good technician, and he would do his duty, if only Hudson could do his. Steadying his shaking voice Hudson tapped his comm. badge. "Adkins, have you tried the other emergency lever?"

"Sir, do you mean the one on the other side of the hatch?" Adkins' voice came through with an obviously confused tone. "Wouldn't that close me in?"

"Get that hatched closed, Mr. Adkins." Hudson's voice trembled as he spoke. "Get it closed or we're all dead."

The crewman was silent for a moment before responding. "Sir, if it's not too much to ask." His voice finally came. "After the fire is out, could you check if you don't hear from me? See if I'm alright?"

"Of course." Was all Hudson could manage.

"All hatches secure!" The Chief announced from the wall console. "I'm depressurizing the section."

Hudson closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. The fires would go out now, the ship would be safe, and there would only be one casualty.

------------------------------------------------------------

The Nightingale was directly above the swirl of plasma. Wisps of the orangish pink energy began to twist upward, reaching for the small ship. Jordan pushed the impulse engines to flank speed; this was going to be close. A plasma column began to for, shooting up ward out of the swirl. As the Nightingale strained its engines to inch out of the column's range, the Assault Ship bared down on them. Jordan had heard the Jem'Hadar were relentless in their pursuit of victory, and gave little head to their own personal safety. He was now counting on the truth of that rumor. The column grew quickly, bolting upward at a vehement pace. It passed the stern of the Nightingale with only twenty meters to spare, a small margin, but large enough. The Assault Ship's down was approximate the same distance from the column on the opposite side, but the distance was too small to alter course. The explosion gave the Nightingale on final rock courtesy of the Jem'Hadar, but only one.

"Well done, Mr. Singer!" Rosh exclaimed, and patted the helmsman on the back.

"Just doing what I came here to do, sir." Jordan replied, smiling broadly. The ship was safe, and his action, his decisions, had made all the difference.

------------------------------------------------------------

The Chief met Hudson as the Ensign crawled out of the Jefferies tube. The Engineer's face was covered in soot, save three or four streaks cleaned by his own tears. "I killed some one Chief." Hudson said, standing up.

"I know." The Chief replied quietly. "But you saved the ship."

"I have to go check on Adkins, I have to make sure. I promised him I would." Hudson began to walk away, but the Chief grabbed his arm.

"I already did, he was sucked out into to space." Reilly's voice was firm now, almost commanding. "There are some things we can control and some things we can't. You can't do anything for Adkins, but we can get an antimatter pod from one of the runabouts before the auxiliary power runs out. The ship isn't in the clear yet, not by a long shot."


	4. Command Confidence

**Chapter 4: Command Confidence**

Lieutenant Commander Blake Marion wiped his damp hands on the black trousers of his uniform as he walked towards the bridge. He had just finished washing up from his last procedure of the day. Finally there were fewer patients requiring surgery that there were surgeons. The day had been tiring, not only had Marion set a new personal record for patients treated in one day, but all while this Dominion business was going on about him. The CO felt proud of his ship. The medical staff had preformed better than expected, treating more patients than the ships capacity, and Lieutenant Rosh said that the ship had achieved some sort of victory over the Dominion, in any case the XO had stopped the shaking in sick bay, and that was a welcome accomplishment. Marion came to the door of the main bridge and in an instant both sides had swooshed back into the recesses of the bulkhead.

"Captain on deck." Rosh stated, standing as he did so. Jordan remained attentively at the helm, while the Jem'Hadar were no longer a immanent threat, the violent plasma storms had not let up. Clark Franks had already accepted an invitation from Rosh to leave the bridge.

"I'm only a Lieutenant Commander, Mr. Rosh. No need for the fan fair." Marion said. "So, are we ready to head back to starbase?"

Rosh's professionalism both enraged and clamed him. He was angry that the Marion didn't know the condition of his own ship, but he was the CO and Rosh would not question any aspect of his command in front of junior officers. "No, sir. We won't know the status of our warp capability until Ensign Hudson and Chief Reilly restore an antimatter supply to the main reactor. Additionally, it would be imprudent to leave the Badlands until we ascertain whether or not the Jem'Hadar Battleship is still waiting for us at the perimeter of the plasma storms."

Though it tried his patience Rosh answered the ensuing questions, like 'why does the antimatter supply need restoring?' and 'you ejected a three year supply of our fuel into space?' Rosh kept his demeanor clam and recounted events as they transpired on the bridge since the Nightingale had left MN-1375.

"Well, good work then, Mr. Rosh." The CO said upon hearing all that had taken place. "And your skill as a pilot is to be commended Ensign Singer. You saved us all." Marion's voice seemed to slow, as if it was taking more and more effort to utter each word. The reality of the danger the ship faced was sinking in. More than that, the novelty of playing Captain was giving way to the burden of command.

Jordan did not notice any change in the CO; his attention was divided between navigating the plasma storms and attempting to suppress an ear to ear grin that had been creeping across his face since Marion accredited the Helmsman with saving the ship. Unlike the Ensign, Rosh noticed Marion's change in mood and was privately pleased the man was realizing how desperate the situation had become. However, that would not solve the dilemma they faced. The XO was certain the safety of the ship was up to him.

Almost before Rosh finished his thought Marion came out of his reflection and said "Can you show me a map?"

"Excuse me?" Rosh had not expected the CO's request.

"A map, or chart, or whatever you call it, of the Badlands and the surrounding area." Marion said, gesturing towards the view screen.

"Uh, of course." Rosh tapped several controls on the center chair's side panel, replacing the view of the violent plasma storms with a star chart of the badlands and the surrounding space. "There are the Badlands. Cardassia, Bajor, Starbase 375." Rosh said aloud as he pointed out the points of interest on the chart.

"Where is the demilitarized zone?" Marion asked, referring to an area of space that once constituted the border between the Federation and the Cardassian Union.

Rosh was astonished, how could the man not know that? "There in no demilitarized zone. The Cardassians are the Dominion's chief ally in this quadrant. The demilitarized zone was gone the day open war began."

"Well where was it then? Can you put that up on the chart?" Marion asked. Rosh touched a few more controls and the old demilitarized zone was superimposed over the chart. Marion smiled. "I remember now. There, take us right there." The CO commanded pointing to and area of the Badlands that was intersected by the old demilitarized zone.

Jordan momentarily looked up at the chart then returned his gaze to the helm. "Course laid in."

"I hope it's still there." Marion said quietly to himself.

"Hope what's still there, sir?" Rosh asked.

------------------------------------------------------------

"We were cutting it close to the wire there." Chief Reilly commented, laying the auto-wrench on the ledge of the antimatter pod storage bay before heaving himself up.

"Stream flow looks good. Could probably balance the matter/antimatter mix a bit better, but I'll have to do that in main engineering." Hudson's voice was distant, as he monitored the flow readings.

"You all right, sir?" The Chief asked.

"I just have a lot on my mind." Hudson said, "A lot of work to do."

"You look tired. Engineering isn't going anywhere, why don't you get some rack time?" Reilly suggested.

Hudson shook his head, "No. I should finish my work, every one else has given so much to keep this ship together. Some gave everything."

"Listen, I've seen a lot in my time in Starfleet, a lot of good and a lot of bad." The Chief paused, putting his thoughts in order. "When most people on this ship look back on today, they'll see what you see, the bad. They'll see the danger we were in, the damage done to the ship, and they will grieve over those who died. But that's not what I'll see. I'll look back and see an officer who made the hard choices, an officer whose decisions allowed me and everyone else aboard this ship to live. Don't punish yourself for doing the right thing."

Hudson picked up the auto-wrench and put it away. He caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the wall console and quickly averted his eyes to the deck. "I didn't even keep my promise to him." The Ensign said almost inaudibly. He then dragged himself up the latter leaving the Chief alone.

------------------------------------------------------------

Kizmet looked around the mess hall. The room could accommodate over a third of the Nightingale's crew at a time, but it always seemed packed. One reason may be that it was the closest thing to a recreational area that Nightingale possessed. It was also the only place besides sickbay that was equipped with replicators. Luckily for her, one of her friends, or at least a colleague, was sitting alone at a small table. "Sovek, may I join you?" She asked.

"If it pleases you." The Vulcan said, not looking up. Kizmet laid her tray on the table and sat down.

"Did all your procedures go well?" Kizzy asked.

"Considering the conditions, I provided the best level of care that could be expected." Sovek answered.

"I never imagined I'd be practicing medicine like this, in the middle of battles. I thought no one attacked hospital ships." There was frustration in her voice. The stresses of the day were beginning to break down her usual good humor.

"It is the Federation's policy not to fire on medical vessels, not the Dominion's." The answer was cold, but accurate, as Vulcans tended to be.

"But why are they putting so much effort into chasing one ship? What kind of threat could we possibly pose to them?" She wasn't expecting an answer; her mind was somewhere else, with someone else.

Sovek's mind, however, was in the present time and place. "You are trying to apply reason where none exists. Wars are an abandonment of logic in favor of pure will. My race was extremely savage and warlike at one point in time. When we turned to logic, war became obsolete."

The Vulcan's words provided no comfort, and Kizmet hoped that Jacob's ship was doing better than her own. She said nothing more, but instead commiserated over her fiancé while she pushed food around on her plate with out eating. Sovek was content that the conversation had reached completion and resumed consuming his own food.

"Am I intruding?" Esco asked, his skin still the dark tanned hue that match Kizmet's own.

"Not at all." The female doctor replied. "Doctor Sovek, this is Esco, our first patient to reach full recovery, and from a ruptured stomach no less."

Sovek took stock of the new comer as he took his seat. "I am not familiar with your species, Mr. Esco."

"Nevlian." Esco answered, picking up a brownish chip that crunched as his bit into it.

"Excuse me, what is that you're eating?" Kizzy interrupted. "Is that…is that wood?"

Esco looked down at his tray. "Oak, elm," the Nevlian pointed out the chips as he identified them, "and this is a guilty pleasure of mine, maple."

"Curious." Sovek said, which drew looks from both Esco and Kizmet. "All trees indigenous to Earth."

"I served there for quite some time, and I became partial to the local _cuisine_ so to speak." Esco explained, popping another wood chip into his mouth. "As Doctor Kizmet is aware, one of my stomachs produces highly corrosive enzymes that allow me to digest food like this."

Kizmet's mind had temporarily forgotten her worries, at present her curiosity for Nevlian physiology pushed all other concerns out of her head. "What is your home planet like? Zosonpang, my home, is closer to its star than Earth is to the Sun. To adapt my people have deep tans to protect us from our star's radiation. I can only imagine what conditions gave rise to your immune system, the dynamic pigmentation, and your ability to digest wood."

"Those traits were developed by evolution, Doctor Kizmet, not adaptation." Sovek pointed out.

"Yes, but isn't evolution just adaptation on the grandest scale?" Kizzy reviled in this sort of conjecture.

Esco then stepped in and ended the debate, "I have no home planet." He said flatly. "At least, I have never met a sole who could tell me where my race originated." The subject was obviously a source of pain to the Nevlian. A silence hung awkwardly over the table until Esco spoke again. "Doctors, could either of you arrange a meeting for me with someone in the command staff?"

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"Good day, Mr. Franks. Some close calls we had there." A crewman said, greeting his superior officer.

"What does that mean? It wasn't my fault, what did you hear?" Franks snapped.

Stunned and having no idea how he had offended the helmsman the crewman's jaw dropped and he was barely able to respond. "I didn't hear anything, sir. Honest, I was just trying to be friendly." The crewman was then left alone with no explanation as Franks stormed off to his quarters.

Lieutenant Junior Grade Clark Franks was third in command of the Nightingale, right behind Lieutenant Rosh. But now even he was questioning if he deserved the position. A day ago, an hour even, it all made so much sense. He was the lead helmsman. He was the department head for propulsion. And now, he was a failure.

Sitting alone in the dark in his quarters, Franks relived the same moment over and over, his moment of failure. He didn't understand. He had done everything right, hadn't he? Graduating in the top third of his class at the academy, all that hard work the first two years of his career, being appointed to his position on Nightingale, all that counted for some thing, didn't it? Or did all that just not matter after you put a hole in the side of your own ship?

------------------------------------------------------------

Jordan entered the large shuttle bay. On the starboard side of the bay he saw his roommate standing just behind the McCoy, staring at the bay door. "Hey Hud, what are you up to?" He said walking towards him.

"Some disruptor fire must have gotten through the shields." Hud said pointing towards one square foot hole in the corner of the bay door and a scorch mark on the deck leading to the McCoy's starboard warp nacelle. "It's superficial, this door is the thinnest part of the hull."

"You know you look like hell." Jordan said, noting the soot that covered his roommate's face and uniform.

"I look better than you." Hudson ribbed his friend, who still had dirt and dried blood caked all over him. Then, feigning annoyance he said. "Aren't you supposed to be on the bridge?"

"The Chief relieved me, said I should come check on you." Jordan explained. "Did you hear how I pulled Franks off the helm and out maneuvered the second assault ship?"

Hudson smiled unconvincingly. "It sounds like the front suits you, Jordo. Do you finally feel like you're making a difference?"

"Well, yeah. But you are too, Hud. Chief told us about you fighting the fires and all that." Jordan said, not understanding his roommate's mood.

"Who did I make a difference to? To the crewman I ordered to his death? To his family?" Hudson's voice grew quiet and distant.

"To everyone else on this ship, to everyone else's families, that's who." Jordan's words sounded familiar, as if they had once been Hudson's own.

"Maybe, but it still feels like one life short of a victory." The two left the conversation there as they were both distracted by the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Jordan." Doctor Kizmet said walking up to the two of them. "Jordan, could I ask you a question?"

"You just did." Jordan said turning towards her. His heart sunk when he saw her face, she always seemed more beautiful than the last time he saw her. But he couldn't for get how… betrayed he felt.

"I guess I did." Kizzy laughed with a slight unease. She couldn't tell if Jordan was trying to be funny or rude. "I was wondering if you were ok. A crewman said something happened on the bridge, that other officer was upset about something, France is it?"

"Franks, actually." Jordan didn't know what to make of her. It was hard keeping up a grudge with someone who was checking to see if he was alright.

"That's right." Kizmet said.

"So that's what you wanted to know? If I was alright?" It was the perfect end to his day. Jordan almost forgot she was engaged. "I'm fine, great even. Thanks for asking Kizzy."

"That's good. I'm glad." Kizzy felt relieved. This was the Jordan she had met several weeks ago, nice and polite. He reminded here a lot of Jacob. She figured it would be safe to ask him. "Hey, there's this Nevlian, Esco. He's an intelligence officer, a patient of mine, and he was wondering if anyone in the command staff would talk with him. He thinks he could help."

Jordan's high spirits plummeted. "A favor, that's what you came here for." Jordan shook his head. "Excuse me. I really need a shower." He them stormed off to his quarters.

"Jordan! What did I…" She called after him. "What did I say?" She asked quietly to herself.

"It's not you." Hudson said from behind her. "It's Jordan. By the way, I'm Matt." He extended his hand.

"Kizmet." She said shaking his stretched out hand. "I just thought it was important. Esco made it sound important."

"I'll let someone know." Hudson assured her. "And don't worry about Jordan. I've known him for four years and, well, there are some things he hasn't quite figured out yet." Hudson signed. "He'll come around, just give him time to get over himself."

------------------------------------------------------------

Hours later the Nightingale had reached the area Marion had indicated. "Odd." Rosh said from the port station. "There is a divergence in the storm's energy field. It looks like and area of calm space."

"Eye of the storm?" Chief Reilly speculated.

"No, that's it. That's where we're going." Marion said from the command chair.

The Nightingale approached the unusual area of energy divergence. It was not until the ship was quite close that the object causing the divergence revealed itself. There, hung between the plasma fields, completely unmolested by the violent energy columns, was a rogue asteroid. Sprouting out of it in all directions were pointed metal towers.

"Those towers are bleeding charge off of the asteroid." Rosh said monitoring the sensor readings. "They're stopping any formation of plasma columns in the immediate vicinity."

"Like lighting rods." The chief commented.

"I think we should be safe form the Dominion here, at least for the time being." Marion was feeling quite pleased with himself.

"We might be able to scavenge parts from that thing to help us with repairs." Reilly suggested.

The Nightingale was close enough for Rosh to conduct a more detailed scan of the asteroid. "There is an artificial Oxygen/Nitrogen atmosphere inside the asteroid. I'll put together an away team to investigate." Marion smiled and nodded at Rosh, and the XO had to admit that the skipper had come through. At the same time, Rosh had questions, and he feared what the answers could mean.

------------------------------------------------------------

Steadying his shaking voice Hudson tapped his comm. badge. "Adkins, have you tried the other emergency lever?"

"Sir, do you mean the one on the other side of the hatch?" Adkins' voice came through with an obviously confused tone. "Wouldn't that close me in?"

"Get that hatched closed, Mr. Adkins." Hudson's voice trembled as he spoke. "Get it closed or we're all dead."

The crewman was silent for a moment before responding. "Sir, if it's not too much to ask." His voice finally came. "After the fire is out, could you check if you don't hear from me? See if I'm alright?"

Hudson then felt something hit his shoulder, and Jordan's familiar voice saying, "Hud, wake up." Hudson was pulled back into consciousness, dropping his PADD as he did so.

Jordan stooped down and recovered the PADD for his friend. "Here you go."

"I ran into Lieutenant Commander Marion." Hudson said lethargically. "Told him about that Nevlian."

"Who?"

"Esco, the Nevlian Kizmet told us about."

"Yeah, whatever." Jordan said rolling his eyes. "Pull yourself together, Rosh is heading this way."

"Have you compiled a list of materials Engineering is lacking in their repairs?" Rosh asked Hudson as he came near the two ensigns.

"Yes sir." Hudson said offering the PADD to the XO.

Rosh glanced over the items on the PADD, and then looked over the Chief Engineer. "Mr. Hudson, when was the last time you slept?"

"I'll be fine, sir." Hudson replied.

"That's not what I asked." Rosh snapped. "Get some sleep. Mr. Singer and I will be able to locate the items on your list, assuming they're there." Rosh instructed, handing the PADD to Jordan.

Hudson did not want sleep. He needed to keep his mind occupied, so it didn't wander back to the Jefferies tube, and the order. "Sir, I would really rather…"

"I don't care what you would rather do, Ensign Hudson. I am ordering you to go to sleep. Is that understood?" Rosh commanded.

Hudson nodded and dejectedly left sickbay. Rosh then walked to a console that stuck out of the forward most bulkhead of the large room. It was the transporter control console. Another feature that set the Nightingale apart from other Federation ships was that the transporter system was integrated into the deck and overhead of the medical facility. This reduced the energy consumed in transporting new patients requiring treatment directly to sickbay. Rosh entered the coordinates. "Energizing." He warned Jordan, who stood up straight and slightly braced himself, as most people did just before dematerializing.

The room began to shimmer and when the effect died away the room had changed from the spacious sickbay to a small passageway with bare rock walls. The two officers walked a short distance down to a large door with keypad next to it.

"Looks like Federation technology." Jordan said pointing to the door's keypad. Rosh touched a control and the door opened. Jordan immediately put a hand over his mouth and nose, "What is that smell?"

Rosh did not react to the stench. He stepped in to the enormous room on the other side of the door, taking in all he saw. Lifeless bodies where all around, sitting at tables, lying on cots, collapsed in front of computer consoles, even strewn around the floor as if they had fallen dead right in that spot. "Find out what species they were." Rosh commanded.

Jordan pulled a tricorder from its holster on his belt. Flipping it open he took a quick survey of the corpses closest to him. "Humans, there's a Tallarite, several Bajorans."

"All Federation races." Rosh observed. "See if you can find any thing from Ensign Hudson's list." Rosh's questions were beginning to be answered, but all the evidence was pointing to the answer he feared most.

------------------------------------------------------------

"It's such an easily correctable flaw; we exploit it only when necessary." Esco said as he modified the sensors from the port bridge console. "At impulse the warp nacelles of Jem'Hadar ships vent small amounts of trilithium."

"That'll let us locate the Battleship from anywhere inside the Badlands." Chief Reilly commented from the helm.

"Then we can just slip out the other side." Marion said smiling. "Good work, Mr. Esco."

"That should do it." Esco tapped a few more controls, and then turned to the main view screen. When the sensor display appeared on the view screen, all three men's jaws dropped to the floor.

The bridge was silent save for Chief Reilly uttering two words, "My god." Nothing else was said for some time, they all just stared.

"It's my fault." Esco said quietly.

Marion looked at the Nevlian, whose complexion had paled to a whitish gray. "You're only the messenger Mr. Esco." The Doctor then sighed, as if he had taken a large weight upon him. As he left the bridge all he said was, "I'll be in my quarters."

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Jordan carefully stepped around the lifeless bodies on the station as he navigated his way back through the large main room. Earlier he had accidentally backed into one, and let out an audible yelp as he backed away, kicking at it. He felt foolish for assaulting a corpse, but had no desire to inadvertently come into contact with another. He breathed a sigh of relief as he exited the room to the empty hall he and Rosh had originally beamed into. He walked down to the other end, which terminated in a similar door.

"Find anything we can use?" Rosh asked as the Ensign walked through the door. The XO was standing at a computer terminal, sharing it with the dead body of a man that had collapsed seated in front of the console. To Rosh's back was a railing. Beyond it was a cavern that housed a large piece of machinery with thick cables feeding into it from all directions.

"Some, but not much. We can scavenge from their hydraulic systems, computer hardware, and maybe take some things apart for scrap metal. But, their power systems are really weird. I can't figure out what's feeding energy into them. There's no antimatter of fusion reactors, this place doesn't seem to have a single plasma conduit, there's nothing that will help us repair Nightingale's port warp nacelle." As Jordan delivered his report, he never took his eyes off the strange apparatus suspended in the center of the cavern. "What is that thing?" He finally asked, not able to fathom its purpose.

"That is why you haven't been able to find any parts compatible with our power systems." Rosh answered. "Look at this." He said, calling something up on the computer.

Jordan took a few tentative steps toward the terminal, trying to peer around the dead body without getting to close to it. Rosh looked back at the Ensign, then shoved the corpse onto the floor and sat in the chair it had occupied. Jordan stepped around the body and stood looking over the XO's shoulder.

The computer displayed a cross-section of the asteroid showing the spires and the station hidden inside. "It's brilliant. Those spires don't just protect the asteroid from plasma columns; they use the charge differential between the plasma fields to power the station. As a result the station's power signature is identical to that of the plasma fields."

"That would make it really hard to detect this place on long range sensors." Jordan observed.

"It makes it invisible. Nightingale didn't detect anything until we were almost on top of it." Rosh corrected him.

"Why would the Federation build something like this?" Jordan asked.

"It wasn't the Federation."

"But it's all Federation technology, and all these dead people are from Federation races, who else could it be?"

"The Maquis."

"You mean the Federation citizens that lived inside to old demilitarized zone?"

"They gave up their citizenship by refusing to be relocated when the demilitarized zone was established. They took up arms against Starfleet, Ensign. They're terrorists." Rosh called up a new set of files on the computer. "This station was known as 'Haven'. It's all here in their logs, Haven was the last hold out of the Maquis."

"What happened? Did the Dominion kill these people, like they did the rest of the Maqui?" Jordan asked.

"Indirectly." Rosh explained. "They were waiting for a supply ship when the war began. It never came. They began to starve to death. Eventually, that man on the floor released a poisonous agent into the air to stop the suffering. Luckily for you and me, the atmospheric filters have since removed the agent from the air."

Jordan thought hard, it didn't make sense to him. "Sir, if this place was designed to stay hidden, how did the skipper know where it was."

"Good question." Rosh replied.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Surrender." Sovek suggested.

"Surrender?" Marion had not expected the Vulcan's recommendation. He had asked to consult with Sovek for two reasons, Vulcan's were renowned for their ability to use reason in the most unreasonable of situations, and Sovek was a fellow physician, Marion understood him far better than he understood the Starfleet personnel aboard the ship. "Do you really think that's best?"

Sovek laid out his argument. "You have told me that there are ten Dominion ships searching the Badlands, presumably for us, and you doubt we can slip out of the area undetected. We are severely damaged, and even if we make full repairs the Nightingale could not outrun any of the enemy ships. Logic dictates that surrender is the best hope for survival."

Marion stood up and looked out his cabin window. The plasma storms were both wonderfully beautiful and horribly dangerous. They were like command, such a wonderful honor and a horrible burden, so much relied on Marion's next decision. He sighed and turned back to the Vulcan. "Perhaps you're right."

------------------------------------------------------------

Upon returning to the Nightingale Rosh headed straight to his quarters. He needed some time to think. There was no doubt in his mind now; Lieutenant Commander Marion's knowledge of this station could not be explained away, nor could it be justified in Rosh's mind. All of his questions had been answered save one, what to do about it?

The door chimed. Rosh considered not answering it, but he could not ignore his duty, even if he expected that another did. "Enter." He said, prompting his door to open.

Clark Franks stepped through the door and came to attention. "Sir." Franks had planed on asking for forgiveness, beg if need be. But standing there in front of the XO his resolve abandoned him.

Rosh was still lost in his own thoughts, hardly noticed the long moments of silence that past between the two. "What is the penalty for failing one's duty?" He finally asked.

The question hit Franks like a strike to the gut; it took some effort to respond. "I suppose it would depend on the failing, sir."

"I'm trying to understand it all." Rosh said, talking to himself more that the JG. "Should the person's intentions be considered, or are the results of their actions all that matters?"

Franks felt himself being torn down. Was his failure unforgivable? It was only a mistake, but one that could have destroyed the ship. Franks forced himself to speak, "Sir, about my performance on the bridge…"

"What?" Rosh asked pulled out of his own deliberations.

"When I…" Franks inhaled deeply. "When I hit the plasma column, sir, I would like to express just how…"

Rosh cut the JG off, "You will not resume your helmsman duties until we leave the Badlands. In the mean time you will assist Ensign Hudson in coordinating the repairs." Rosh handed the junior officer a PADD. "You can start by organizing some of the engineering technicians to scavenge the items off that list from Haven station."

Franks was surprised. He thought that he would be punished severely; he thought he may have ended his career, especially after what the XO had said about duty. "Aye, sir." He said, before turning to leave.

Rosh sensed his subordinate's confusion, and stopped him before he left. "Mr. Franks, I wasn't speaking of you earlier, I was just thinking out loud. You performed as well as most anyone would considering what we were up against, I will not hold a simple mistake against you."

"Thank you, sir." Franks said, his confidence coming back to him.

"You have duties to attend to, dismissed." The XO responded. Franks nodded and left. Rosh had made up his mind, and he too had a duty to attend to.

------------------------------------------------------------

"How do I break this to the crew?" Marion asked. "It won't be easy."

"You are searching for a way to save people's emotions. I do not have emotion, and can not offer counsel in this matter." Sovek replied.

Before Marion could speak again the door chimed. "Yes?" He called. Rosh stepped into the room. "Ah, Mr. Rosh, I wanted to speak with you."

Rosh noticed the Vulcan doctor. "May we speak in private, sir?"

"Not necessary, Doctor Sovek is fully aware of our current situation." The CO replied.

"Our situation?" Rosh asked.

Marion was taken aback; the XO seemed to know all things about the ship at all times. "We're surrounded." He explained. "A patient helped us modify the sensors. Ten dominion ships are searching the Badlands for us. We're beaten, we have to surrender."

"Surrender? Never, we have to run. We have to fight!" Rosh retorted.

"Run and they will catch us. Fight and they will destroy us. Surrendering is the logical course of action." Sovek said.

"Two Excelsior class ships, each with a crew of over five-hundred, were destroyed so that we could survive, the patients aboard this ship fought the Jem'Hadar on MN-1375 until they physically were unable to, and you want to surrender? Where is the logic in that?" Rosh yelled at the Vulcan. He then turned to his Commanding Officer. "And you, you are a traitor!"

"Because I won't thow away the six hundred lives on this ship in an impossible fight? Because I am considering surrender?" Marion asked, standing as he did.

"Because you are a member of the Maquis!" Rosh hollered.

"Could you please excuse us Doctor Sovek?" Marion asked the Vulcan.

"As you wish." Sovek responded, leaving the room.

"I am not a member of the Maquis, Mr. Rosh."

"Then how did you know the location of their secret base?" Rosh pressed.

"Before this assignment, I was the administrator of Federation Medical services on Alpha Centauri. I'm not a political man, I never have been. I didn't really follow the situation in the demilitarized zone, it was light years away. I didn't think it would ever affect me." Marion took a couple of steps to a large painting of the Nightingale, displayed prominently on the way. "However, my sister, she got swept up in all of this Maquis business. I stopped hearing from her one day, I never got a reason. I figured she was busy on her starship somewhere off in the cosmos. Then one day, out of blue, she shows up at my doorstep on Alpha Centauri. She tells me of people suffering and in need of treatment. She asked me for help, and I agreed. She took me here, to this station. I treated the sick and injured and I left. Does that make me a terrorist Lieutenant?"

"How many of the people you healed went on to kill again?" Rosh demanded. "Did you know the Maquis used chemical weapons against Cardassian worlds? They made them uninhabitable. I wonder if anyone you treated was involved in those attacks."

"I've never thought of it that way." Marion said quietly, running his hand across the inscription in the frame of the portrait. It read, 'Do No Harm'. "As a doctor, a life in jeopardy is placed in front of you and you save it. That is all I know."

Rosh realized the man had no grasp of what he had gotten himself into with the Maquis. "Maybe you aren't a terrorist," Rosh conceded, "but you are a fool and unfit for command."

"I'm reluctant to argue with you. I was set to retire before I was offered this assignment. I only accepted because Bill Ross was my roommate at the Academy. He said it would be a favor to him."

"Bill Ross? As in Admiral William Ross, Commander of all Starfleet forces in this sector?" Rosh was astonished that Marion and Ross had anything in common.

"He is that, and a good friend." Marion sighed. "I'm trying to do the right thing. I don't want anyone to come to harm. Surrender sounds like that answer."

"Why do you suppose the Dominion is putting so much effort into hunting us down?" Rosh asked. "A hospital ship is not something they would normally put this much energy into finding. We have something that they want, and surrender will be freely turning it over to them."

"What could we possibly have?" Marion asked.

"Probably something they didn't find on MN-1375. One of the patients, or something they have, I'm not sure, but I know we can't give it to them. And we can't just turn all these people over to the Jem'Hadar. Do the right thing; give me command of the Nightingale." Rosh urged.

Marion turned to the Andorian and looked him directly in the eyes. "It's true I know little of commanding ships, but as a doctor I have learned a few things about people. Almost everyone on board has questionable confidence in our ability to make it out of the Badlands alive, me stepping down as Commanding Officer will do nothing to make that confidence grow. I'll make a deal with you. If we ever make it back to Federation space, I will turn myself in as a Maquis collaborator, until that time you help me do this job. Teach me what you know."

Rosh considered the offer carefully. "You say there are ten ships looking for us?"

"That's right." Marion said.

Rosh put his hand on the Commanding Officer's shoulder. "Lesson number one: you are a Starfleet Officer. You never surrender, no matter what the odds."


	5. Do No Harm

**Chapter 5: Do No Harm**

"There goes another one." Rosh said, pointing at the sensor display as one of the Dominion ships wandered out of the Badlands, then turned and reentered. He stood on the bridge looking over Esco's shoulder as the Nevlian sat at the port station.

"I doubt they can communicate with each other in the plasma storms." Esco speculated. "They're probably reporting to that ship." He indicated a blip on the display that was slowly circling the perimeter of the Badlands. "It hasn't entered the plasma storms once since I started tracking it."

"It's probably the Battleship. It's too big to safely enter the area." Rosh exhaled in frustration. "If we only knew what they were looking for."

"You don't think they are just trying to track down the vessel that destroyed two of their assault ships?" Esco asked, the hue of his skin reddening slightly.

"The fact that they even sent those ships after us makes me suspicious. I don't think it's the Nightingale itself that they want. I think it's something we brought on board." Rosh shook his head. He couldn't figure out what it was they were after. "I don't suppose a Starfleet intelligence officer would have any special insight."

The hue of Esco's skin was reddened further to a deep magenta, but the Nevlian remained silent. Rosh, lost in his own speculations, returned to the center chair. Esco's guilt got the better of him, he shut off the sensor display, and rose, turning to face the XO. "Lieutenant Rosh, I know what the Dominion is after."

Rosh looked up in surprise. "Yes?"

"Me." He replied.

------------------------------------------------------------

Ensign Hudson finished modifying the computer simulation and executed the program. "Damn it!" He yelled, hitting the console as the results were displayed.

"God, this place is small." Franks said, entering main engineering. "Did you say something?"

"Nah, it's just this port nacelle." Hudson said gesturing to the main engineering display that showed the port warp nacelle in bright red, indicating damage. "With only one functioning nacelle, we can't even make warp two."

"Well don't look at me." Franks snapped, felling very defensive all of a sudden.

"I'm not." Hudson said. "I just wish things had happened differently. The ship lost a lot." His thought wandered back to the Jefferies tube.

At the same time, Frank's thoughts wandered back to the bridge. "Listen, _Ensign_, I'm not going to stand here and point fingers. The repairs using the equipment from the asteroid should be done within the hour, I'll contact you then." Franks then stormed out of the small room. Hudson didn't understand what the JG had gotten so irritated about, but he really didn't care. His were in another time and place he wished he could forget.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Why are they after you?" Marion asked Esco. They were seated at Marion's desk, Rosh remained standing, studying the Nevlian intensely.

"I cannot tell you." Esco replied. "The answer to that question could compromise the security of the Federation."

"I see." Marion said, accepting the answer.

Rosh would not let it slide. "That answer is unacceptable. Whatever you're holding back could make the difference between this ship returning home, or being destroyed."

"Disclosing what this is about could destroy the Federation."

"How could a simple bit of knowledge be that dangerous?"

"In my experience in Starfleet Intelligence, I have found a simple bit of knowledge can bring an empire to its knees faster than a fleet of a thousand warships. I cannot tell you what I know Mr. Rosh, and my position will not change." Esco's resolve was clear.

"Well then," Marion stepped in. "How do we fight the Jem'Hadar with we know and what we have?" A thoughtful silence fell over the three of them as they searched for an answer.

"We are damaged and their ships greatly out class our own. I can think of no weakness of theirs we can exploit. It will be difficult to gain an advantage." Esco said.

"Undoubtedly they know that as well." Rosh said knowingly. "And we should act just as they would expect us to. We have to surrender."

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Jordan, like most Starfleet personnel, thought of his rack as his private sanctuary. The bed wasn't the most comfortable one he had ever slept in, but a curtain could be pulled closed to shut out the rest of the ship. Next to the helm, Jordan was happiest lying in the upper bunk of the room he shared with Chief Engineer. It was a small space, but it was his own. So it was understandable that he felt annoyance when not only was his slumber interrupted but his sanctuary invaded when someone's hand breached the barrier of the curtain and shook him

"Go away Hud." Jordan mumbled, but the hand shook him again. "Just because you're having trouble sleeping doesn't mean you have to bother me."

"Ensign Singer, you will wake up now." Whoever the voice belonged to it was not Hudson's.

Jordan shifted his position and poked his head out from behind the curtain. "Franks? What the heck?"

"We're having a meeting on the bridge in thirty minutes."

"We don't need to have a meeting, I know me and chief will be the only ones pulling helm duty." Jordan disappeared back behind the curtain of his rack.

Franks pulled the curtain all the way back. "This is not about helm duty. We are leaving the Badlands."

Jordan felt like he was ready to deck the JG until his mind processed what Franks had just said. "We're what?"

------------------------------------------------------------

Rosh was walking briskly down the passage way, speaking quickly to Esco who followed close behind. "We'll choose one the ships and intercept it as it exits the Badlands. We don't need any plasma storms complicating our plan. Is it safe to assume that we'll be facing an assault ship?"

"The Jem'Hadar assault ship is the only vessel in the Dominion's inventory small enough to navigate the Badlands." Esco replied.

"So now we just have to figure out how the keep that Battleship disinterested in us while we carry out this ruse."

"I'll have to talk it over with your engineer, but that shouldn't be a problem as long as all goes as quickly as we're hoping."

"Good, you meet with Ensign Hudson. I have a meeting on the bridge; I'll work out the details of your exchange." When Rosh was finished Esco nodded and headed to engineering. Rosh lengthened his stride and continued to the bridge.

------------------------------------------------------------

"I know this is not the most ideal of circumstances, but it is necessary for the survival of the ship. I need sick bay cleared. We have to get all these patients out of here." Marion instructed, standing in sickbay in front of the doctors of the USS Nightingale. There was some grumbling among the staff, but they all complied. Marion may not have been a born with the talents needed to be the skipper of a ship, but as a hospital administrator, few rivaled him.

Kizzy had just sent another patient off with a nurse when Marion walked by. "The ship is in a lot of danger, isn't it?" She asked Marion privately.

Marion looked at the young doctor and wondered if a comforting lie was warranted. He had never lied to a patient about the seriousness of the treatment they faced, and he would not lie to a colleague. "Yes, it is."

"Esco is the cause of this, isn't he? He was my patient, I saved his life. I feel responsible in a way." Kizzy said.

The Old Doctor put his hand on Kizmet's shoulder. "All you did was you're job and you did it well. You should never regret saving a life. You never know, the Jem'Hadar may have chased us regardless of whether Esco was aboard. But now, we have a bold plan and it wouldn't have been possible with out his help."

------------------------------------------------------------

"I'll do it. I have the most experience with transporters." Chief Reilly said. He sat at the helm, allowing the computer to keep the Nightingale in orbit around Haven station in the pocket of calm space.

"Good, Mr. Singer, you will be at the helm, Mr. Franks, you will have the conn, and I'll turn Esco over to the Jem'Hadar." Rosh instructed.

"Understood, sir." Franks acknowledged.

Jordan thought for a moment. He knew the decision was wrong. "Sir, I'll do it." He said. "I'll hand over Esco."

"Are you sure about that Ensign?" Rosh asked.

Jordan took a deep breath. "This ship has three helmsmen, but only one executive officer. I'll do it."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Jamming their communications should be easy enough. How many transporter inhibitors do you have on board?" Esco asked the chief engineer. The two of them were working out the technical challenges of the plan in main engineering.

"None." Hudson's reply was met with a quizzical look from the Nevlian. "This is a hospital ship. We weren't issued any transporter inhibitors."

"Damn. The plan won't work unless we can beat their transporters."

"That's the least of our problems. The minute we exit the Badlands the Battleship will pick up our power signature."

Esco pulled up a diagram of the power system on the main display and programmed in a simulation. "Look, we can adjust the antimatter flow to make our power signature almost identical to that of a Jem'Hadar assault ship. To the Battleship we will look like a sensor echo, interference from the plasma storms. It should give us enough time."

"We'll have to run the reactor pretty hot to do that." Hudson said looking at the simulation. "This is going to make our engines really inefficient. There's no way we'll break the warp threshold in this configuration, not with one…"

"Sir, do you mean the one on the other side of the hatch?" Adkins' voice came through with an obviously confused tone. "Wouldn't that close me in?"

"One what, Ensgin?" Esco asked as Hudson stared silently at the display.

Hudson shook his head, pulling himself back into the present. "One Nacelle."

Esco studied the young man intently. "Something happened when that nacelle was damaged, and you feel responsible. Some died perhaps? Maybe it was your fault?" He probed.

"Did chief tell you? Ask you to tell me that I did the right thing in ordering Adkins to his death? I know it saved the ship, but it still doesn't feel right." Hudson said.

"I was told by know one. It is my job to infer what people are thinking from the small bits of information I have at hand. Or in the case of our plan with the assault ship, force them to think what I want, with the information we present to them." Esco explained. The Nevlian sensed the engineer's mood dampen further. The man did not want the sympathy his crewmates offered. He wanted a way to reason the events out, a way to fix the problem like he did the ship's engines. And truth be told, Esco was looking for the same thing. "What is it our Vulcan friends say about the needs of the many outweighing the needs of the few? A very logical assertion, but with no consideration for emotion. I much prefer this ship's motto, Do No Harm. Very human, incredibly optimistic, and wholly unrealistic. So often the choices are between two evils. Perhaps you are just realizing the ideal doesn't exist."

"Do you really believe that? That in the end, someone always has to get hurt?" Hudson asked.

"No, I believe that in the end, everyone gets hurt. This war has taken a lot from us and it will take a lot more. The dilemma that is at the forefront of my mind is the right thing to do in such times. Whose lives are more valuable, ours or the dominions? If you could end the war tomorrow by destroying a people, would you? Or do you allow some moral code not shared by your enemies to extend the hostilities?"

"Humans have another saying: the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. I'm realizing that now more than ever." Hudson said thinking about Crewman Adkins. He thought for a moment then added, "But nobody ever made it to Heaven with bad intentions."

"The road to Hell you say? Sounds a bit too pessimistic to be a human saying, but I suppose there is a realist or two among your people. I'm still partial to do no harm, but perhaps they are one and the same."

Hudson looked back at the display. "Huh." He said, and called up a new screen showing a cross section of the ship. "I just figured out how to beat their transporters."

------------------------------------------------------------

"So, to long range sensors, we look like a Dominion ship?" Rosh asked Hudson as the engineer explained the work he had completed. They stood at the fore end of the now empty sickbay along with Esco, Chief Reilly, and LCDR Marion.

"That's right, sir." Hudson replied, confirming his superior's assessment.

"What about the transporters?" Rosh asked.

"Sickbay is basically one large transporter." Hudson said gesturing to the transporter controls on the wall. "We can use it to generate a scattering field throughout the ship that will disrupt anything trying to materialize."

"What does that mean, disrupt?" Marion asked.

"If the Jem'Hadar attempt to transport aboard the ship, there molecules will not be reassembled. They will be effectively vaporized and filtered out of the air by our ventilation system." Hudson explained.

"Vaporized, my word." Marion said quietly.

"Will the Assault ship be able to detect the scattering field?" Rosh asked.

Esco answered next. "It will just look like random power fluctuations from a damaged ship." The Nevlian then turned to Marion. "But they will know it is unsafe to transport, and will not attempt it."

"How does my bit in the plan suppose to work, with this scattering field in effect?" Reilly asked.

"The scattering field's seemingly random pattern is actually a thirty-eight minute repeating sequence. You'll use the transporter on the McCoy; my techs are setting it up to filter out the field." Hudson said.

"And you are certain we will be able to track Mr. Esco?" Rosh asked Hudson.

Hudson held up a cylinder the size of his pinky finger. "This rod of viridium will allow us to track him." Hudson handed the rod to Esco, who immediately put it in his mouth and swallowed. Marion, Rosh, Hudson, and the Chief just stared in bewilderment at the Nevlian.

"It's in my first stomach; the acids produced there will not digest it for at least a day." Esco's explanation did not quell the confused looks. "And this way the Jem'Hadar will not find it." He added.

"You just get weirder all the time, don't you?" Chief finally asked, breaking the silence.

"I assure you that I am just as _weird_ now as I have ever been. You are just beginning to take notice." Esco replied with a smile. The group then dispersed to make final preparations.

"Never in all my years did I imagine I would be a part of a plan like this." Marion said to Rosh as they left sickbay.

"If it any comfort to you, sir, neither did I." Rosh replied.

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The Nightingale was no longer protected by the calm space surrounding Haven station. The ship was once again braving the storms, slowly approaching the edge of the Badlands. Jordan carefully followed the trilithium signature of the assault ship in front of them. He was careful not to keep enough distance to avoid detection. "At their current speed, they're about ten minutes from clearing the storms." Jordan reported.

"Very good." Rosh acknowledged. He then tuned to the port station. "Mr. Franks, please take the helm." Franks took a breath, nodded to the XO, and rose from his station. He crossed the bridge as Jordan found a clear patch to exchange control of the helm.

"The storms are pretty calm here. Remember to look for swirls in the plasma, it'll give you a little warning before a plasma column forms." Jordan said handing the helm over.

"I know." Franks said with a touch of irritation. Jordan just looked away and headed towards the back of the bridge were Rosh and Chief Reilly. "Ensign Singer." Franks called without looking up from the helm. "Good luck."

"You too, JG." Jordan replied before joining the Chief and XO.

Rosh was in front of a panel on the aft wall with a small plate in the upper left corner marked 'Armory'. The Andorian entered a code on a small console and the panel opened to reveal four type II hand phasers.

"Four phasers? That's all?" Jordan asked.

"Just be glad one of them is yours, Mr. Singer." Rosh handed one of the weapons along with a holster.

"You should be glad it's just a hand phaser. A rifle would just slow you down." The Chief said to Jordan, while accepting a phaser of his own from the XO.

"We'll provide all the cover we can." Rosh said, holster a phaser of his own to his side. He then looked the Ensgin directly in the eye. "You will not be alone."

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Jordan walked down the corridor alone. Sure there were other people in the passageway, the hall was filled with patients from sickbay that there was just no room for, but none of them walked with Jordan nor knew the risk he had volunteered for.

Kizmet was tending one of the patients lying against the bulkhead of the corridor. She saw Jordan pass and enter one of the doors to sickbay. She finished what she was doing and hurried after him. "Jordan, wait." She called, catching up to him.

Jordan stopped and turned. He looked at her, but didn't say anything. What was there to say?

"I heard, Doctor Marion told me, about what you have to do." Kizzy said, stumbling over her words.

"Yeah?" Was all Jordan said in response.

She began to tear up. Even when the ship had been under attack Kizzy hadn't felt like danger was so near. "Good luck." She finally said, her voice squeaking a bit as she fought back her tears.

He didn't let it show on his face, but Jordan was also scared. He wasn't stepping behind the helm this time. This danger was new and alien to him. But it didn't seem as bad now, Jordan wasn't sure if it was Kizzy's support that made him feel stronger, or just seeing in her face that he was not the only one that was scare. Maybe it was simply a new resolve to survive the ordeal that grew inside him, if for no other reason than to remove the pained look from Kizmet's face. "Thanks." He said. "I'll be fine."

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"They're coming in range, sir." Franks reported from the helm as the Nightingale approached the Jem'Hadar assault ship at the edge of the Badlans.

Rosh manipulate the controls on his console. "I've jammed their long range communications. Bring us along side her, nice and easy."

It was not long before the hospital ship was noticed. The assault ship, resembling a beetle resting on two pontoons, came about steadying its narrow snout which held its main disruptor on the Nightingale.

Rosh's console lit up as the assault ship powered its weapons and targeted the Federation ship. "It seems we have been noticed." The XO said before touching the control to hail the enemy vessel.

On the viewscreen the image of the assault ship was replaced with that of a Vorta, the Dominion's genetically engineered military commanders, whom controlled the Jem'Hadar soldiers. "You have thirty seconds to surrender your ship, or we will destroy you." The Votra said.

Rosh stared coldly back. "I reject your request. You will not destroy this ship."

"Are you willing to stake your life on that, or the hundreds of other lives under your command?" The Vorta asked.

"It would take only one volley from your disruptor banks would obliterate us. If you were going to destroy us, you would have done so already."

"And if you really intended to be as defiant as your words imply you would not have come out of the Badlands to hail us. Stop wasting our time and say whatever it is you have to say."

"We are willing to give you what you want in exchange for safe passage back to Federation space."

"And what is it that we want?"

"A man named Esco."

"The skin shifter! You have him, then?"

"That is why you have been perusing us, is it not?"

"There was some doubt as to if he had survived the battle on, what was it called, MN-1375? Your Federation really lacks a talent for naming planets…" The Vorta stopped in the middle of his thought and considered the Andorian. "Why are you telling me this? I doubt you are intending to surrender, and you have no chance whatsoever of escaping. Do you think I might have a change of heart and just set you free?"

"Yes." Rosh replied. "But not without proper incentive. The skin shifter, as you call him, is a criminal, to the Federation as much as to the Dominion. Personally I don't care where he faces justice, and if surrendering him to you gets him off my ship as well as purchasing our freedom, so much the better."

"You know, I could just as easily have the Jem'Hadar take the fugitive by force." The Vorta said trying to stare the Andorian down.

Rosh was unimpressed. "True, but I have very few options available to me at this point."

The Vorta's scowl burst into a loud belly laugh. "Quite right. Prepare the prisoner; we will discuss the fate of your vessel after my soldiers have him in custody."

------------------------------------------------------------

"So they believed you?" Marion asked he stood with Rosh in the crowded corridor outside of sickbay.

"Of course not, but they are humoring us. Esco was right, all the want is him." Rosh explained, handing a phaser the Ensign Hudson.

"And they didn't notice the scattering field?" Hudson asked, checking the power setting before holstering the weapon.

"They assumed it was interference from damaged power systems. They're too convinced of their own superiority to care." Rosh turned to enter the fore section of sickbay, but then turned back to Hudson. "How are the doors?"

The Engineer pointed at the door in front of the XO. "That and the main door to the shuttle bay are the only two doors to sickbay that will open. The rest are sealed." Rosh nodded and stepped through the door followed by Hudson.

"Good luck." Marion called after them.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Put these on me." Esco said to Jordan, handing him a pair of binders. They stood in the open door between sickbay and the shuttled bay. Jordan took the binders and locked Esco's wrists together. "Nervous?" The Nevlian asked.

"They want you, not me. Shouldn't you be the one that's nervous?" Jordan tried to sound confident as if he was without fear, but unsuccessfully. If his apprehension had mass it would have taken up more space than one of the immense runabouts.

"It's all right for you to be scared. Maybe I should be too, but I deserve whatever I get. Each day that passes is probably one more than I deserve."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jordan asked, noticing Esco's skin taking on a slightly darker hue.

"It means I regret getting this ship into all of this. And if they start shooting, don't worry about me, save your own life. I don't want anyone else to come to harm because of me." The shuttle bay door then creaked as it slowly opened. Through the force field, that separated the bay from the vacuum of space, the edge of the Badlands could be seen with patches of black dotted with stars peaked through the plasma fields. And in the middle of it all a small object grew bigger against the orangish pink background.

"Any other words of encouragement before we do this?" Jordan asked sarcastically.

"Maybe just some advice. The Jem'Hadar are an abomination, a race bread for war. They are incapable of feeling fear or mercy. Show them none."

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"All set." The Chief's voice came over the comm.

"Very well, Chief." Rosh replied, closing the link. "Esco and Ensign Singer are also in place. Looks like we're ready."

"The Dominion shuttle is arriving now. Looks like seven life signs on board, all Jem'Hadar." Hudson reported from the console at the forward bulkhead of sickbay.

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"Draw your phaser." Esco instructed.

"That's wasn't part of the plan! We're not supposed to just start shooting them!" Jordan protested.

"I didn't say anything about firing it. Aim it at me, I'm a criminal, remember?"

Jordan drew the weapon and held it to Esco's side. In front of them the force field glowed as the Dominion shuttle passed through it. It set down in between the two runabouts. The shuttle seemed small next the Nightingale's support craft. Jordan tensed up; he had never seen a Jem'Hadar soldier close up before. The bay was completely still for a few long seconds, then the whine of the shuttle's aft gate pieced through the silence. There was a clunk as the gate settled on the deck. Jordan hardened himself for what would come next. Stepping lightly with their disruptor rifles drawn, the Jem'Hadar spread out across the shuttle bay, three to either side of their craft. The seventh sauntered out holding his rifle somewhat more relaxed at port arms. He stopped in front of Jordan and Esco.

"You are…" Jordan's voice failed him. The being before him was six and a half feet tall. There was a tube protruding from his neck connected to a small dispenser unit on his chest, pumping a white fluid into his body. His skin looked as if it were made of scales of gray leather. Small horns of bone protruded out of his skin along his jaw bone and in line rounding the back of his head from temple to temple.

"I am the First." The soldier announced. "Human, where is the rest of your crew? Or can't you stop shaking long enough to speak?"

Jordan forced himself to look into the unblinking eyes of the First. "Dead, or keeping this ship from tearing itself apart."

"We detected hundreds on board."

"And you probably know this it a hospital ship. Did you really want to be received by civilian doctors and sick people?" The Ensign jammed his phaser into Esco's side. "This is who you're here for, what do you care no one else is here?" The first nodded, accepting the explanation, and Jordan began feeling slightly more confident in his roll.

The First then turned to Esco. "You would make your people proud, if there were any of them left. You follow so closely in their footsteps." He sneered. He then nodded to one his men, who hurried towards Esco, pulled him away from Jordan and proceeded to pat him down. When the search was done, the Jem'Hadar soldier shook his head.

The First turned to Jordan. "Where is it?" He demanded.

"Where's what?" Jordan asked, any confidence he had leaving him upon hearing the unexpected question.

"The canister!" The First yelled. He pointed at Esco. "That man had a canister with him, where is it!"

"I don't know." Jordan said, unconsciously stepping backwards. "He didn't have anything with him."

Esco began to laugh. "It was destroyed on the surface of MN-1375, destroyed by Jem'Hadar weapons."

The soldier in front of Esco rammed the butt of his rifle into the Nevlian's gut. "You lie!" The Jem'Hadar yelled at Esoc who was doubled over in pain.

The First leveled his rifle on Jordan's head. "You had better not be lying Human!"

"I'm not lying! Why would I lie? You're getting Esco, aren't you? You can just find out from him whatever you want to know, right?" Jordan spoke quickly, trying to find the right words to make the barrel of the rifle drop.

It wasn't so much what Jordan said that convinced the First to lower his weapon, but the manner in which he said it. "I believe you; you're too stupid to lie." He then turned to the soldier in charge of Esco. "Third, take him to the shuttle." The soldier complied.

Meanwhile another soldier standing near the McCoy consulted a hand scanner. "First, there is a life form inside this support craft." Almost in unison the rifles of each Jem'Hadar snapped towards the runabout. Even the Third, escorting Esco, stopped near the cockpit hatch of the McCoy.

"What is this treachery? Who is in that vessel?" The First demanded from Jordan. "Answer me!" The First pressed the barrel of his rifle into Jordan's forehead.

Jordan did not hear the First's questions, the threat of the disrupter boring into his head drowned out all other noise. For a few moments no sound could be heard in the bay, Jordan didn't even breathe. The silence was interrupted by a low gurgle. The sound came from Esco. The Third, who was nearest him, turned his eyes from the Runabout to his prisoner. Esco stared right back. He suddenly opened his mouth. A liquid erupted from him, spraying all over the Thirds face. The gurgle was replaced with a sizzle. The Third screamed as the acidic liquid burned through his leathery scales.

All eyes where turned to the Nevlian except for two. Jordan still stared at the first whose weapon had lowered as he craned his neck in the direction of his subordinate's scream. "Fourth!" The First yelled to another soldier.

The Fourth ran towards Esco and smacked him over the back of the head with the butt of his rifle. Esco collapsed onto the deck.

"Fourth, take him back to the ship. There will be no more trouble from him." The First said. The Fourth then began to drag the Nevlian to the shuttle.

"He's not the one you should be worried about." Jordan said quietly. When the lead Jem'Hadar turned back to the Ensign, he was staring down the barrel of a Federation phaser. The First attempted to raise his rifle. Jordan depressed the thumb trigger on the top of his phaser. The First reeled back at the barrel of the phaser glowed red. There was a crackling noise, but nothing happened. Jordan pressed the button again. Again the phaser crackled, but emitted no beam.

The First straightened himself and glared at the Ensign. Jordan looked back and the fuming Jem'Hadar. He dropped the phaser and took off in a dead sprint to the fore end of sickbay.

------------------------------------------------------------

At the other end of sick bay, almost one hundred and fifty meters away from the shuttle bay, Rosh and Hudson observed the scene on internal sensors. "Ensign Singer needs covering fire." Rosh instructed Hudson. The two aimed their phasers down the sides of the long sickbay and fired. Nothing. Rosh checked the charge of the power cell, and the firing setting. He tried again. Nothing. "What's wrong with phasers?"

------------------------------------------------------------

The First raised his rifle and took careful aim and the retreating Ensign. He smiled, enjoying how easy it would be to dispatch of the insolent Human. He squeezed the trigger of his disruptor rifle. There was a loud crack, but no bolt was fired. The First pulled the trigger again and again, but the weapon was useless. "Shoot him!" He screamed to his soldiers. The shuttle bay echoed with the cracks of the other rifles, but no rifle was successfully fired.

The First dropped his rifle and took off after Jordan.

------------------------------------------------------------

"It's the transporter scattering field." Hudson said. "It must be diffusing all directed energy beams."

"Get ready with that force field." Rosh ordered. He then hit his comm. badge. "Ensign Singer…"

------------------------------------------------------------

"Run!" Rosh ordered over the comm. Jordan needed no encouragement. He was pumping his legs as hard as he could. The First followed in pursuit, quickly closing the gap between them. Jordan leaned forward and pushed hard against the deck with every stride. His heart pounded in his chest, it might have been from his sprint or maybe from his fear, but he did not think about it. He had only one thought in his mind, survival.

The First's thoughts were just as focused, but his overriding desire had nothing to do with survival, just the opposite, he was going to kill the human. The Jem'Hadar had been humiliated in front of his men; he had allowed this weakling the opportunity to kill him. No malfunctioning weapon would spare this human's life; the First would kill him with his hands.

------------------------------------------------------------

Esco heard the shuttle's gate close. He lay on the floor, body limp and eyes closed. He had thought they had failed, that he had failed. He believed this ship and its crew would be added to those deaths he was responsible for. But then the Jem'Hadar are incredibly predictable. They have behavior patterns hard wired into their genetically engineered minds that make them incredibly adept warriors, and sometimes incredibly gullible, if you know those behavior patterns by heart. It would not be long now; the plan was going to work. Esco remained still, he could hear the Third cursing him as he attempted to wipe the corrosive stomach acids from his face. Meanwhile the Fourth powered up the shuttles engines.

------------------------------------------------------------

Jordan could feel the First behind him. The soldier was almost with in arms length of the Ensign. Jordan knew he couldn't make it, he pushed harder, but his legs could not carry him any fast. "Do it!" He yelled over the comm. in between labored breaths.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Do it, now!" Rosh and Hudson heard Jordan repeat.

Rosh looked at his Chief Engineer; a look of horror had crept across the young man's face upon hearing what his roommate was suggesting. "There is no decision." Rosh said. Whether it was to himself or his subordinate, he did not know. "Ensign Singer will not make it. Do as he says." The Andorian ordered.

------------------------------------------------------------

The First reached for the Starfleet officer, but the human was just out of reach. Jordan felt the Jem'Hadar's fingers brush lightly over the back of his shoulder. The Ensign dove for cover behind a medical table. "Do it!" He screamed. "Damn it Hud, do it now!"

------------------------------------------------------------

Matt Hudson's fingers hovered over the console. He heard his friend's voice not only over the comm., but also faintly echoing down the cavernous sickbay. Hudson thought of Crewman Adkins. He thought of the order he had given then. He thought of his conversation with Esco, do no harm, The road to Hell, they were the same. Hudson stood at the far end of the road to Hell. He could not harm his friend; he could not kill him like he did Adkins. His could not force his fingers to drop onto the console.

Rosh shoved Hudson out of the way, it had to be done. The XO's hands ran across the control quickly. There was a _thunk _sound a force field was erected just beyond the first two medical beds in the bay.

------------------------------------------------------------

The First watched as the human leaped behind a medical bed and held tight to the bed's legs. At the same time, the First felt himself slipping backwards. He lost his footing and began wildly grabbing at anything that might stop his backwards movement.

------------------------------------------------------------

In the shuttle bay the Jem'Hadar soldiers were ripped from the ground and ejected out into space and the bay's force field was deactivated and the room lost atmosphere. The soldiers and the shuttle they had arrived on were quickly ejected from the shuttle bay as it was depressurized.

------------------------------------------------------------

Jordan held on with all his might. The air rushed by him violently as it exited the ship. He strained against the force, but his grip began to slip. He had to hold on. Jordan's own strength would now decide whether he lived or died.

------------------------------------------------------------

Esco felt the shuttle lurch as it was blown out into space, and he bent his fingers around and entered the release code to the binders. The two Jem'Hadar were thrown to the floor, and there weapons clattered across the deck. At the same time Esco leapt to his feet. He delivered a kick to the Third's already injured face. The Fourth scrabbled across the deck for his rifle, but Esco released another eruption of acid; it splatted over the Fourth's hand reaching for the weapon. The soldier pulled his injured limb close to his body and howled. Esco picked up bother rifles, slinging one over his shoulder. He aimed the other at the Third's head and fired. The Nevlian then turned to the Fourth. He knelt down, pressed the rifle to the Jem'Hadar's abdomen and pulled the trigger.

As the Fourth felt the life draining out of him he stared at the prisoner that had bested him. He saw the Nevlian's skin turn to a flat gray color, then dark lines formed across the gray face in a crossing pattern. As the Fourth's vision began to fade, he swore that it wasn't Esco's face he was staring into, but one of a fellow Jem'Hadar.

------------------------------------------------------------

Rosh reactivate the shuttle bay's force field and re-pressurized the vacuum he had just created. He then shut down the field that had protected himself and Hudson.

Hud tapped his comm. badge. "Hudson to Singer." There was no response. "Hudson to Singer, are you there?" Again there was no response. "Jordan, answer me!"

Rosh looked at the pained engineer. "The ship has a chance now, Ensign Singer understood that."

Hudson looked down the length of sickbay. It was filled with air again, but the room felt emptier than anything Hudson had ever known.

------------------------------------------------------------

Esco pulled a panel of the ship's communications unit and removed an isolinear rod. He then set the shuttle's course for the assault ship and hailed the vessel. The Vorta's face appeared, but the transmission was garbled, courtesy of the isolinear rod Esco held in his hand.

"Shuttle, I can barley see you." The Vorta said.

"This is the First, we have been betrayed. The communications unit must have been hit in the fire fight." Esco replied.

"I told you they would; the Federation scum does not know when it is beaten. Did you accomplish you mission?"

"I have the skin shifter."

"And the canister?"

"It is here."

"The Founders would be proud. Come aboard as quickly as you can, and I will allow you too destroy the Federation ship." Even through the static the smile on the Vorta's face was apparent.

------------------------------------------------------------

Collapsed under a medical table, Jordan gasped for air. He could hear Hudson calling him over the comm., but he could not calm his breathing enough to respond. He was about the hit his comm.. badge when he looked up and saw the First standing over him. The Jem'Hadar grabbed Jordan by the neck and picked him up off the ground.

------------------------------------------------------------

Esco maneuvered the shuttle onto final approach to the assault ship's shuttle bay. He went to the back of the shuttle and opened a service hatch to reveal the small supply of antimatter he took the rifle off his shoulder, set it to overload, and then jammed it into the compartment with the antimatter.

------------------------------------------------------------

On the McCoy's sensor readout, Chief Reilly could see the viridium signature was almost inside the assault ship. His timing would need to be perfect. He only had a moment after Esco took the shuttle inside the Dominion vessel before the plan was completed or the assault ship raised its shields and destroyed the Nightingale. The Chief locked the transporter onto the viridium signature and counted down the seconds.

------------------------------------------------------------

The First was enjoying watching the human struggle. Jordan tried hit and kicked the First, but to no avail. As he swung his arm he felt his right hands hit something. It was a draw. He pulled it open and grabbed the first thing he could get his hand on. Looking to his side he was he had grabbed a laser scalpel. Activating it he stabbed at the Jem'Hadar's neck, blood started pouring out of the wound. The First dropped Jordan and grabbed his own neck and howled in pain. The Ensign still had the scalpel in his hand. He thrust it into the First's knee, and the soldier dropped to the ground.

------------------------------------------------------------

In the shuttle bay of the assault ship the Vorta stood grinning arrogantly while he watched the shuttle come aboard. He never suspected that anything was wrong. He never had any idea that the power cell of a Jem'Hadar disruptor rifle set on overload was exploding, and destroying the containment system of the shuttle's antimatter supply. The Vorta still had that arrogant smile on his face as his body was vaporized in the explosion of the shuttle.

------------------------------------------------------------

Esco smiled as he stood next to the Chief watching the assault ship explode from the cockpit of the McCoy.

"Reilly to Lieutenant Franks." The Chief said. "Get us out of here."

"With pleasure Chief." Franks' voice came over the come. After resting the antimatter flow to its normal configuration, he then commanded the Nightingale to jump to warp.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Jordo!" Hudson yelled seeing his roommate alive. He ran up and hugged his friend. "When you didn't respond I thought…"

"Sorry, Hud. I got a little preoccupied." Jordan said gesturing towards the Jem'Hadar.

"Make sure the scattering field is deactivated, Mr. Hudson." Rosh said drawing his phaser and pointing it at the Jem'Hadar. Hudson went off to carry out his orders.

Lieutenant Commander Marion, flanked by doctors Kizmet and Sovek, stepped up to his XO. "Is everyone ok? Did Esco make it?"

"I am fine Doctor Marion." Esco answered as he and the Chief approached from the shuttle bay.

"Everyone is fine, sir. The only one bleeding is that." Rosh said, indicating the Jem'Hadar on the floor with his phaser.

"Oh, my!" Marion said, startled when he saw the man on the floor. "Is that on of those Hadar fellow?" Kizmet passed Marion and knelt down next to the First, scanning him with a medical tricorder.

"Jem'Hadar, Doctor Marion." Esco corrected. "Excuse me, what is she doing?" Esco asked referring to Kizzy.

"My job." She replied. "This man is hurt." She pulled out a dermal regenerator and sealed the wound on the First's neck.

"That man is an abomination! His race was created to kill, nothing more. He does not deserve your care." Esco protested. Kizmet ignored him and continued to work. Esco turned to Marion. "Do you see that tube running into his neck? It is delivering an isogenic enzyme called ketracel-white to his body. Once the supply runs out he will go berserk before dieing just days later."

Rosh took a step towards Marion and spoke softly. "He's right, sir. It would be unwise to keep a living Jem'Hadar onboard. I've heard of ketracel-white, it cannot be replicated. The Jem'Hadar is dead already."

Kizmet paid no attention to what was going on around her. "This is going to hurt." She told her patient as she prepared to pull the laser scalpel out of his knee.

"Why do you do this?" The First asked.

"I took an oath." She said, swiftly pulling the medical instrument out of his knee. "Above all else, do no harm." She again picked up the dermal regenerator and used it to stop the bleeding.

"I took an oath to serve the Founders. I will not allow myself to be held hostage by their enemies." The First replied.

"My oath is to all living things, even if they are my enemy."

"Then you pledge yourself to a fool's errand." The First scoffed.

"Maybe, but my oath is going to save you from bleeding to death." Kizzy replied.

Marion stared at the scene, never in all his years as a doctor had he seriously considered not helping someone who required care. He needed more opinions. "Doctor Sovek, what do you think?"

"It is not logical to help this individual. In the end our efforts will be fruitless. It would be in our best interest to kill him." If Marion didn't know better he would have sworn the Vulcan was glaring at the Jem'Hadar.

"Jordan, Chief, help me get him onto a medical table." Kizmet asked the two onlookers.

"He tried to kill me." Jordan said, not making any move to help.

"Sir?" Chief Reilly asked Marion.

Watching the First being lifted onto the table, Marion knew the order he had to give, not just for the sake of the ship, but for the Federation. "We will not kill this man. We will provide the best care possible."

"Are you mad? We just destroyed their ship and all his men! Doctor, you are already responsible for ordering the death of dozens of these creatures!" Esco said in disbelief.

Marion was ready to defend his position. "That was in a combat situation Mr. Esco. We did what was needed to escape the Badlands. The mission of this ship is to save life, all life. We may be in a war, but that is no excuse for deserting our morals. The moment we abandon our sense of right and wrong, the Dominion has won, because what the Federation was before this war will be gone. Ensign Singer, Chief Reilly, please assist Doctor Kizmet."

"The scattering field has been deactivated." Hudson said walking up behind Rosh, Marion, and Sovek. "Did I miss something?" He asked, watching Jordan and Reilly lift the First to a nearby medical table.

"I'm going to sedate you." Kizzy told her patient as she loaded a medication into a hypospray. "You need to rest, it will speed your recovery."

"Very well." The First said. Kizzy reached over the other side of the Firsts neck to administer the hypo. The First hand moved up so quickly Kizmet didn't realize the Jem'Hadar had moved until she was being thrown over the table. Before she hit the ground the First had seized the hypo and injected the medication into Chief Reilly's arm. In the same movement he kicked his legs out, hitting Jordan in the chest. The first rolled off the table to the floor, and wrapped his arm around Jordan's neck. He stood up, using the Ensign to shield as much of his massive frame as he could. "This one will die if you try too stop…"

Before the First could finish his thought a brilliant red beam shot out from behind Rosh and Marion. It hit the soldier directly in the head. The Jem'Hadar's body glowed briefly before being completely vaporized.

"Ensign Hudson!" Rosh yelled. "What if you had hit Mr. Singer?" All eyes turned to the Ensign.

Hudson held nothing in his hands and his holster was empty. "It wasn't me." He said.

Standing next to the engineer Sovek stood with the phaser still trained on were the Jem'Hadar had once stood. "It was logical." The Vulcan said his voice clearly agitated. "He deserved it."


	6. Tales of Glory and Honor

**Chapter 6: Tales of Glory and Honor**

"Something has to be done about him, sir." Rosh said, sitting across the desk from Marion in the CO's quarters.

"He could have just been trying to protect us. The Jem'Hadar was holding Ensign Singer by the neck." Marion said.

"Ensign Hudson swears that his phaser was not set to full power. That means Doctor Sovek set the weapon to vaporize before firing." Rosh explained. "He did so in violation of your orders to keep the Jem'Hadar alive."

"I thought you disagreed with that order." Marion replied.

"I did, but you had made your decision. It was not my position to countermand your order, and it certainly wasn't Sovek's."

"What would you have me do? We don't have a brig. He's a civilian; I can't reduce him in rank. Should we hold a tribunal and bring the most skilled surgeon on this ship up on charges of murder?"

"Insubordination may be a more appropriate charge, but I don't think a tribunal is the answer." Rosh sighed. "This isn't an isolated incident. I heard he slapped a patient. The other day he was sitting in this room advising us to surrender. I've known other Vulcans, something is wrong with Sovek, I don't know what it is, but something is seriously hurting his judgment." Suddenly the ship rocked violently.

"What was that?" Marion asked, gripping his desk to steady himself.

"Rosh to the bridge, report."

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"Franks here, sir. We're under attack. Warp power is off line." The JG answered from the center chair.

"Taking evasive maneuvers." Jordan called from the helm.

The doors to the aft of the command space swooshed open and Chief Reilly, a little winded from running to the bridge entered. "Who the hell is shooting at us?"

"Dominion Battleship. It came out of nowhere." Franks explained.

Sitting down at the starboard station Reilly powered up the phasers. "I bet it's the same one that chased us to the Badlands."

"Return fire, Chief." Franks commanded.

"No effect." The Chief reported. "Their shields are too strong for our pea shooters."

The bridge doors opened again as Marion and Rosh entered. Franks gave up the center chair, and assumed the port station. Marion looked at Rosh who gestured towards the command chair, indicating the Doctor should take the seat. Marion cautiously took his seat. As the ship shook again the CO wondered if he shouldn't have taken Rosh up on his offer at Haven station, maybe Rosh should be in command.

"Our phasers are useless against the Battleship. I suggest we divert phaser power to the shields." Rosh said looking over Frank's shoulder.

"Yes, divert the power to the shields." Marion ordered.

"Shields holding at sixty-four percent." Franks reported once had transferred the power.

Marion gripped the arm rests of his chair as the ship again rocked violently. "Maybe, maybe if we put some distance between us and the Battleship, their weapons wouldn't be able to target us as accurately."

"Attempting to open some distance, sir." Jordan reported.

Rosh reached over Franks shoulder and called up a tactical analysis of the Dominion Battleship on the port console. "Sir, there are gaps in the Battleship's firing arcs just off its warp nacelles, but we would have to get close to utilize them."

The ship rocked again as another volley of disruptor fire. "Shields at forty-nine percent." Franks reported.

"Ensign Singer, position us off one of the Battleship's warp nacelles." Marion ordered.

"Aye, sir." Jordan replied, bringing the Nightingale about.

"We need warp power." Rosh said in frustration.

"We're not likely to get it back as long as they're shooting at us." Reilly said. "We've got power fluctuations all over the board, a few more hits and we're going to start losing more systems than warp drive."

Jordan was able to slide the Nightingale into position off the Battleship's starboard nacelle, but not before incurring several more hits from disruptor fire.

Looking at his console Franks saw power begin to fluctuate all over the ship. "Shields are down to twenty-nine percent." Franks reported.

Across the bridge the increasing power fluctuations ruptured an EPS conduit behind the starboard station. Sparks erupted out of the console, and Chief Reilly was flung backwards in his chair as he grabbed at his face in pain.

Marion was not sure what to do when shields were at twenty-nine percent, but he did know that the Chief needed medical attention. Marion leapt out of the seat to help Reilly. "He needs surgery, Mr. Rosh, take the con." Reilly was burned and bloodied; shards of the console were imbedded in his face. The CO tapped his comm. badge. "Marion to sickbay, two for emergency transport."

Rosh took the center chair as Marion and the Chief disappeared in the shimmering light of the transporter effect. Rosh weighed his options, or lack there of. The ship rocked again as it drifted back into the Battleship's firing arc.

"Shields at twenty-two percent!" Franks cried out.

"Keep us out of their firing arc!" Rosh commanded.

"I'm trying, sir." Jordan reported, frantically making minor adjustments to the Nightingale's course. He tried to anticipate the maneuvers of the Battleship before they made them. The blind spot of the massive warship's firing arc was only slightly larger than the Nightingale herself, keeping the hospital ship inside that area was near impossible.

The bridge shuddered as another shot grazed Nightingale's hull. "Shields at fourteen percent!" Franks reported.

"Thrusters are failing." Jordan reported. The ship was becoming sluggish and fighting against his commands.

"Rosh to engineering, emergency power to the shields, take it from life support if you have to." The XO commanded.

"I'll give you all we've got, sir, but it's not much." Ensign Hudson replied over the comm.

"Lieutenant, three ships decloaking off the Battleship's bow." Franks said. Looking at the sensor read out he felt a wave of hope wash over him. "They're Klingon!"

"Hail them." Rosh ordered.

The image of the Dominion ship on the main viewer was replaced with a Klingon face. "Federation ship, I am Torr. Drop your shields on my command." The viewscreen then returned to image of the Battleship, but now three Klingon Birds of Prey could be seen heading directly towards the Dominion ship with weapons blazing.

"If we drop our shields we'll be defenseless. What do we do, sir?" Franks asked, all his hope leaving him.

"We do exactly as he says." Rosh instructed. He wasn't sure what the Klingons had in mind, but they were the Federation's chief ally against the Dominion and unlike Rosh, they had a plan.

The Birds of Prey were almost on top of the Battleship now. Two of them suddenly cut towards the Nightingale.

"Lower your shields!" Torr's voice boomed across the comm. Franks complied immediately, afraid to cross the intimidating voice.

Passing over the Nightingale the two Birds of Prey lock tractor beams onto the hospital ship and jumped to high warp. After firing several more photon torpedoes at the Battleship, the third Bird of Prey followed.

------------------------------------------------------------

Marion was scrubbed up and ready to operate. He already had Nurse Haas administer a pain reliever. Chief Reilly was unconscious now. With all the technology in the Nightingale's incredible sickbay Marion began his work with a simple set of tweezers, carefully picking away the shards of the exploded console that had been embedded in Reilly's skin. The Chief had no warning of the blast, Marion could tell. The natural human reaction to an impending explosion would be to turn away and cover one's eyes, but the shards of console hit the front of Reilly's face, and the only thing that covered Reilly's eye were his eyelids. That could be serious, Marion thought. "Nurse Haas." The Doctor said, not looking up from his work. "Locate Doctor Kizmet, I may need her expertise."

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"Federation ship, worry not about the Dominion Battleship. It will take them a day's repairs before they have the speed to pursue us." Torr said from the trailing Bird of Prey.

"I am Rosh, executive officer of the USS Nightingale. We are in your dept Captain Torr." Rosh said from the center chair.

"Your ship took quite a beating. We're taking you to a nearby area of space where you can make repairs. We will be masked from the Dominion's long ranged sensors there."

"You're not talking about the Badlands are you?" Franks asked from his station.

Torr laughed out loud. "Only a fool would take a sloth of a ship like yours into the Badlands. Do not worry human, there is a pulsar near here, it is quite safe."

Jordan managed to remain silent, but he couldn't resist cracking a smile.

------------------------------------------------------------

"What do you think?" Marion asked he methodically healed Reilly's burns with a dermal regenerator.

Doctor Kizmet was at the wall display studying the Chief's ocular scans. "We can repair the corneal abrasions fairly easily. We only need to modify a dermal regenerator." Kizzy then sighed. "But his retinas, it doesn't look good."

"What do you mean? " Marion asked, finishing his work and approaching the display to better see what Kizmet was talking about.

"Chief Reilly's retinas have been burned. I saw a lot of this on Zosonpang, my home. Our sun is closer to our planet than most, and retinal burning is the most common cause of blindness." Kizmet said.

"Blindness, are you sure?" Marion gasped.

"At best, Mr. Reilly has lost all of his peripheral vision, but retains the ability to make out colors and blurs of people." Kizzy explained.

"Blurs of people?" Marion asked.

"These are very severe burns." Kizzy replied. "I wouldn't be surprised at all it was total blindness, but there is only one person that can tell us if that is the case."

Marion turned back to the sleeping Chief. "Very well." He said. He then turned to Nurse Hass. "Wake him."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Come." Rosh responded to the door chime to his quarters sounded. The doors swooshed open and Ensign Mathew Hudson stepped into the room.

"You wanted to see me sir?" The Ensign asked.

"How are repairs coming?"

"We've restored warp power, and we're in as good a shape as it was when we left the Badlands. But we're still letting the Klingons' tractor beams carrying along. We're traveling at warp six, faster than we could go on our own. I've diverted some extra power to the structural integrity field to offset the effects of tractor shearing."

"Good." Rosh said.

"If that's all, sir, I'll return to my duties. We should be arriving at the Pulsar shortly." The Chief Engineer turned to leave.

"One moment, Mr. Hudson." Rosh said, bringing Hudson a halt. "Yesterday, in sick bay, you hesitated when it was time to depressurize the bay and rid the ship of the Jem'Hadar soldiers. You endangered the ship."

Confronted with his own failure, Hudson stood frozen in Rosh's gaze.

Rosh sigh, allowing a rare display of frustration to a junior officer. "What am I suppose to do with you? I can't demote you, you're an Ensign. I can't relieve you of duties; you're the only engineer I have. But I also can no longer trust you in holding the safety of the ship above the safety of a person."

"Sir, I've known Jordo, uh, Ensign Singer for years. I was afraid of what pressing that button would have done to him." Hudson stammered in response.

"Mr. Singer knew the risks. He volunteered for his part in the plan. Is this really about not wanting to loose your friend, or is this about someone dying by your order?"

"Sir, do you mean the one on the other side of the hatch?" Adkins' voice came through with an obviously confused tone. "Wouldn't that close me in?"

"Mr. Hudson? Are you listening to me?" Rosh asked.

"I'm sorry, sir. Yes, sir, I am listening." Hudson felt like a first year cadet again.

Rosh could see that his point had been made. "Chief Reilly told me you were experiencing some guilt over the death of Crewman Adkins. I sympathize with what you're going through. It is a hard decision, choosing between the ship and a person. But you must make sure that the safety of this ship and its crew are always paramount, personal feelings of guilt are a small price to pay for doing the right thing."

Hudson looked at the floor, not wanting to meet Rosh's gaze. "I understand, sir."

"I hope so." Rosh replied. He then stood up. "Now, let's go meet some Klingons."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Where am I?" Chief Reilly demanded.

"You're in sickbay." Kizmet calmly answered him.

"Who are you? What happened to the Battleship? Is Nightingale OK? Why is it so dark in here?" The Chief rattled off questions.

"I'm Doctor Kizmet. The Nightingale is safe, we escaped the Battleship, but you were injured during the attack." Kizzy kept her voice as peaceful as possible; she knew it was the only connection the Chief now had with his environment.

"Power must be offline. Don't you worry you're pretty little head, Ensign Hudson is a good engineer. He'll have the lights back on in no time." Reilly spoke quickly and nervously.

"The lights are on Chief. During the attack an EPS conduit ruptured behind the console you were operating. The flash of light was so intense it severely burned your retinas. Do you understand what I am saying?" Kizmet asked.

"What the hell are you talking about, it's darker than night in here? I feel fine. Give me a flashlight, Hudson probably needs some help." The Chief tried to sit up, but he felt a firm hand push him back down.

"Chief, this is Lieutenant Commander Marion. I know this is hard to accept, but you are blind. Doctor Kizmet has more experience with cases like yours than anyone on the ship. There is no way I know of to heal your eyes. They can eventually be replaced by prosthetic VISOR implants, but Nightingale is not equipped for such specialized treatment."

Reilly lay back down. "There has to be something you can do. You're doctors aren't you?"

"Doctor Kizmet can explain your options to you, but understand, there is no medical procedures I know of that will restore your natural sight." Marion patted Reilly on the shoulder, not knowing what else to do. He then left, pulling the curtain closed around the medical alcove as he did.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Captain Torr signals that he is ready for transport." Hudson reported from the transporter console at the fore end of sickbay.

Rosh nodded. "Let's not keep the captain waiting. Begin…"

"Am I late?" Marion asked quickly approaching the transporter panel.

"No, sir. We were just initiating transport now." Rosh replied. "Ensign Hudson, begin transport."

Moments after Hudson tapped at the console a blue shimmering light coalesced in front of the three Starfleet officers, when it finally dimmed the massive frame of Captain Torr was left in its place. If there were any naturally occurring species that were as intimidating in appearance as the genetically engineered Jem'Hadar soldiers, it was the Klingons. Torr was well over six feet tall. He wore the traditional uniform of a Klingon warrior, but his family sash, worn over his shoulder like a bandoleer, was adorned with many more medals than the average warrior.

"I am as healthy as a wild targ." Torr announced.

"That's, um, good to hear." Marion said, not sure if Torr was using some Klingon idiom he was not familiar with.

"Then why have you transported me to your sickbay?" Torr asked taking in his surroundings.

"The Nightingale is hospital ship. Our transporter is integrated into the deck and overhead, making it easier to beam the sick and injured directly to this sickbay." Hudson explained.

Torr nodded. "A hospital ship? I have many wounded warriors, will you give them treatment?"

"Of course." Marion replied, extending his had. "By the way, I am Lieutenant Commander Blake Marion, Commanding Officer and Chief Medical Officer of the Nightingale."

"Captain Torr, IKS Hor'Cha." The Klingon said shaking Marion's hand more forcefully than the doctor was expecting. "Your ship took quite a beating in from that Battleship. It is fortunate my squadron was passing through the sector."

"Actually, the damage was fairly moderate." Hudson said.

Rosh shot a glance at the Ensign, making the Engineer realize he had diminished the Klingon's valiant rescue. Rosh then turned back to Torr. "The majority of our damage occurred in the Badlands, when we were trying to elude the very battleship you rescued us from. We are in your dept."

"I will consider it paid in full once you treat my warriors. And if you could provide us with medical supplies before we leave, I will be in your dept. I fear we will not be able to fill our stores for some time, not on this side of the line."

"You will have all your cargo bays can hold." Marion said, glad that he could be of service to a Klingon. He then saw Nurse Haas walking pass and waved her over. "Nurse, We will be treating the Klingons, please make room for additional patients and prepare to transport all the medical supplies they require to their ships." The Nurse nodded, and left to carry out her orders.

"What did you mean, 'on this side of the line'?" Rosh asked.

Torr was surprised at the question. "On the Dominion's side of the line, are your navigational systems damaged as well?"

"We entered and exited the Badlands on the Federation's side of the line." Rosh answered.

"You took this ship into the Badlands?" Torr exclaimed in disbelief. "Several days ago, the area you refer to may have been Federation space, but no longer. As of now all Alliance forces are in retreat. There was a massive engagement in sector 4452. We were there, songs will be sung about that battle, unfortunately they will be sad songs." Torr spoke in a low respectful tone. "We intercepted a Federation transmission two days ago. It contains a list of the ships that were lost."

"Oh my." Was all Marion could manage to say.

After a moment of stunned silence as Torr's words set in Rosh finally broke the silence. "We would appreciate a copy of that transmission, Captain. Is there anything else we could do for you?"

Torr thought for a second then smiled. "I have heard of a human drink known as Prune Juice. It is said to be worthy of a warrior."

Rosh then thought of the perfect disciplinary action for Hudson. "Ensign Hudson, please escort our guess to the galley and get him a tall glass of prune juice."

Hudson thought that Rosh's dressing down had left him in low spirits, but diplomatic duty with a Klingon sent them spiraling even lower. However, Hudson felt he deserved it, so he mustered a smile and said: "This way, Captain."

------------------------------------------------------------

Marion walked down the corridor that housed the medical staff's quarters. He still had to talk to Sovek. Disciplining a doctor under his authority was nothing new the Marion, but the particular circumstances he was faced with now changed everything. He had never had to deal with a doctor on his staff vaporizing someone.

"Doctor Marion, could I speak with you for a moment?" Esco said quietly from behind the CO.

Marion jumped when he heard Esco's voice. "Mr. Esco, where did you come from?" Looking at the Nevlian, Marion thought the lights had just gone out. He realized the Esco's skin was the same shade of Gray as the walls of the corridor. Shadows even seemed to fall across his face at the same places as they did on the bulkheads. It all gave the illusion that Esco was standing in a dark passageway, even though the lights were at their normal intensity. "I was on my way to Doctor Sovek's quarters, but I have a moment if this won't take long." Marion said, catching his breath.

"I apologize for startling you." Esco said as his pigment changed to match Marion's own. "The Vulcan is actually pertinent to what I wanted to discuss. Sir, there is a gathering threat on this ship that must be dealt with."

"I am aware of the complaints against Doctor Sovek, and I assure you I will personally deal with the situation." Marion assured the Nevlian.

"The threat I speak of is not isolated to the Vulcan, I am referring to the ship's morale. The Vulcan is an extreme example of how the pressures of this war are wearing on the crew and the patients. Feelings of hopelessness have a way of spreading like a cancer; this ship must believe it will survive to have any hope of getting home. Something must be done now, especially since the crew will soon be aware of the Federation retreat."

"How did you know of the retreat? I only just found out myself." Marion asked.

"I find myself reminding many people on this ship, I am an intelligence officer. It is my job to know things."

"What would you have me do Mr. Esco? I cannot change the tide of war."

"People crave leadership in times of trial. Give it to them, and our chances for survival improve dramatically." Esco stared at Marion, silently demanding a response.

"I'll try." Marion said, before resuming his walk towards Sovek's quarters. He couldn't help but slouch ever so slightly under the burden of command.

------------------------------------------------------------

"I never thought it would end this way." Chief Reilly muttered.

"That what would end this way?" Kizmet asked.

"My career. I never imagined that I would be rendered useless like this."

"You aren't useless Chief. Once we get back to Starbase we'll be able to get you to a medical facility that can give you VISOR implants. You'll be able to see again."

"After months of therapy, and then I'll only had some artificial approximation of sight." Chief scoffed.

"VISOR implants will allow you to see farther than you ever have before. You'll be able to pick up light outside of the human visual spectrum. You're sight will be better than anything you've ever experienced and they aren't as fragile as natural eyes." Kizzy said, hoping the capabilities of artificial eyes might get the Chief's mind off his loss.

"They're that good, huh?" Reilly asked.

"Yes, Chief. They are superior to natural eyes in everyway." Kizzy replied, happy that her ploy had worked.

Reilly then said in a low tone, "Then why don't you have them?"

------------------------------------------------------------

"Enter." Sovek said as the door chimed. The Doctor was sitting in the middle of his darkened quarters meditating in front of a Vulcan candle.

"I didn't mean to interrupt your meditation." Marion apologized.

Sovek leaned forward and blew out the candle. "Computer, restore lights to normal levels." He stood and faced Marion. "It is no inconvenience. How may I be of service?"

"There have been complaints." Marion said. "Concerning you."

"It is no surprise. Vulcan doctors are often said to have poor 'bedside manners' by species with less emotional control." Sovek replied.

"I'm afraid the complaints are much more substantial than that." Marion paused, waiting for a response. Sovek gave none, so Marion continued. "Did you slap a patient?"

The Vulcan's expression did not change, but he did advert his eyes downward. He momentarily studied the deck before again looking Marion in the eye. "I silenced and unruly patient."

"By slapping the patient?" Marion pressed.

"He was distracting to the medical staff, and causing duress to the other patients. Time was short. The patient needed to be silenced quickly, so I silenced him using the quickest means available. It was the logical thing to do." Sovek said.

Marion nodded, considering the Vulcan's explanation. "Why did you vaporize the Jem'Hadar soldier?"

"It was the logical thing to do. The Jem'Hadar was threatening the life of a Starfleet officer, I removed that treat." Sovek replied quite unemotionally.

"You did not need to vaporize him." Marion insisted.

"I am unfamiliar with phaser operations. If I failed to incapacitate the soldier on the first shot, harm was certain to come to Ensign Singer. I set the phaser at what I rightly believed to be maximum power to ensure my attempt would be successful."

Marion nodded again. He paced to the other side of Sovek's quarters, reviewing the Vulcan's logic in his head. The reasoning was sound; Marion could not find any fallacies. However, the logic did not make Sovek's actions acceptable. Marion turned back towards Sovek. "I don't think you are telling me the entire truth. These violent acts, your comment the other day about the Jem'Hadar 'deserving' his fate, in hindsight even your urging me to surrender could be a sign of hopelessness, it almost seems as if you're depressed."

"Vulcans do not experience depression." Sovek replied.

"Maybe," Marion said, "but I will not tolerate violence towards a patient, any patient. You are relieved of your duties until further notice."

------------------------------------------------------------

"And the other Jem'Hadar ship was stupid enough to run into your second antimatter pod?" Torr laughed and took another swig of prune juice, downing the glass.

"Actually the second Assault ship avoided the pod, and Nightingale ended up getting hit by a plasma column." Jordan said. He had groaned internally when Hudson had spotted him entering the galley, and invited him to share a glass of prune juice with a Klingon. However, while his suspicions about prune juice had held true, he actually was having fun exchanging war stories with Captain Torr. Torr had already told Jordan and Hudson about his squadron getting trapped behind enemy lines, and the Dominion ships they had ambushed over the past couple of days. But the Klingon seemed more impressed at the story of the Nightingale running away from battle than he was with his own tales for running into them.

"Out of antimatter, and severely damaged, how did you escape? Did the Jem'Hadar simply take pity on you?" Torr asked.

"Well, I took over the helm. I saw a swirl in the plasma field, indicating a column was about to spring up. I turned towards it, put the engines to full, and the assault ship followed. The plasma column formed just as assault ship was passing over the swirl; they took it right in their broadside." Jordan said smiling.

Torr laughed again. "I am still amazed you even attempted to navigate the badlands in this ship, but to defeat two Jem'Hadar warships, and a third as you left, that is a story worthy of song." Torr then turned to Hudson, who had been quiet for most of the story telling. "And I suppose you, the engineer, were holding that damaged warp nacelle to the ship with your own bare hands."

"Something like that, I was fighting fires." Hudson said quietly. He was not comfortable taking about the battle. "Could I get you another prune juice?" Torr nodded, Hudson took the Klingon's empty glass and headed for the replicators.

"Your friend is uncomfortable talking of your adventures." Torr said to Jordan once Hudson was out of hearing range.

"Yeah. Hud had a rough time during the battle. We took one casualty and he blames himself for it." Jordan grew very quiet, wondering if he should be telling any of this to Captain Torr.

"Was it a friend?"

"No, it was one of his Engineering Technicians."

"A subordinate, often that can be even harder to endure."

"I've tried telling him he didn't do anything wrong. I wish he could see that, but he just…" Jordan couldn't put it into words.

"Sometimes the hardest things to see about ourselves are clear as day to others." Torr said. "Guilt, remorse, these are some of the enemies within that can cripple a warrior as effectively as a well placed blow from a bat'leth."

"Cripple? Do you think Hud will ever let it go, ever stop carrying the burden?"

"Wounds heal, Ensign Singer. I can see that you are a good friend, and a cunning warrior. You have earned much glory in an unlikely place."

Jordan smiled and shrugged as he said, "I try." He then took a swig of prune juice, which he immediately regretted.

"One tall glass of prune juice." Hudson announced, placing the glass of purple liquid in front of Torr and taking his seat again.

Torr took a swig of his new drink. "Now tell me more about how you escaped the Badlands by surrendering to a Jem'Hadar Assault Ship." The Klingon said.

Jordan leaned forward. "Well, the Badlands were swarming with Assault Ships…"

"Bridge to Ensign Singer." The unmistakable voice of Clark Franks came across the comm.

Jordan rolled his eyes and tapped the comm. badge on his chest. "Singer here, go ahead JG."

"Are you aware that you have duty at 1400?" Franks asked.

Jordan looked at time readout on a nearby wall console. "Its 1350, I have ten minutes until my shift."

"If you had bothered to read the ship's Standard Operating Procedures you would know that you are supposed to report fifteen minutes early for duty in order to conduct a proper turnover brief." Franks said.

"Who wrote that SOP?" Jordan asked.

"As head of department head for propulsion, I wrote it." Franks replied, very pleased with himself.

"Fine. I'm on my way." Jordan tapped off his comm. badge and then turned his attention to Torr. "I'm sorry Captain, the story will have to wait."

"You're not even going to finish your prune juice?" Torr asked, astonished at how much of the precious beverage still remained in Jordan's glass.

"I had a lot of prune juice with breakfast." Jordan said before turning to leave.

"Ensign Hudson, perhaps you could finish the tale." Torr suggested.

"If it's all the same to you sir, I'd really rather not." Hudson replied.

"Ensign Singer told me that someone under your command lost his life during the battle."

"And I suppose that you are going to tell me I did the right thing, just like everyone else on this ship keeps telling me." Hudson was clearly angry that the subject had been brought up. He didn't care that he was raising his voice to a Klingon, or the man that had saved the Nightingale. The engineer wanted the issue dropped.

"I think you know you did the right thing. The choice was between the ship or the man."

"But it was my choice! I'm the one who made it and now Crewman Adkins is dead!" Hudson pounded his fist on the table, causing the galley to go silent, all eyes on him and the Klingon.

"And you continue to relive that moment looking for another solution!" Torr shouted back, then lowering his voice he continued. "You are not going to find another solution. Some battles cannot be won without sacrifice. And you forget, it was not your choice, it never was."

"What do you mean? Whose choice was it?"

"Crewman Adkins." Torr replied. "Did he not know what the consequence of your order was?"

Hudson didn't reply immediately. His mind wondered back to the Jefferies tube. "Sir, do you mean the one on the other side of the hatch?" Adkins' voice came through with an obviously confused tone. "Wouldn't that close me in?"

"He knew the consequence." Hudson finally said.

"It was Crewman Adkins' choice to follow or not follow your order." Torr reached across the table and put his hand on Hudson's shoulder. "Your friend Jordan has found much glory through his actions in these past days. But you have men willing to go to their death for you, that tells me that you have found Honor. I know you feel guilt for giving that order, that is to be expected. But in the end Adkins is dead, you are not. Honor his memory by being the man he was willing to die for."

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"Quite frankly, sir, he's right." Rosh replied after Marion had finished relaying Esco's concerns to Rosh. "The conditions we have been going through have obviously been wearing on Sovek, Ensign Hudson is holding on to some guilt over the death of Crewman Adkins, and after hitting that plasma column in the Badlands Lieutenant Franks's confidence at the helm is questionable at best."

"Chief Reilly's spirits have also shaken by his recent injuries. Esco suggested providing the crew with leadership, but where could we possibly lead them?" Marion asked. He wondered if the great captains of the Federation like Archer, Kirk, or Sulu ever felt so helpless against their own crew.

"We can't lead them anywhere until we get that damaged nacelle fixed." Rosh stared at the portrait of the Nightingale hanging on Marion's bulkhead. It was hard to believe that less than a week had passed since the ship had looked as pristine as it did in the painting. "Currently, even at our maximum warp factor, it would take nearly four years to make it back to Federation space. I can't say I blame the crew for their spirits being so low. I've found myself questioning whether or not we'll see home again."

Marion was surprised. Rosh's demeanor seemed no different now than any other time they had spoken. The Andorian seemed serious, and no more or less serious now than he had ever been. Before Marion could respond there was a chime from the door to his quarters. "Enter." The CO said.

The doors swooshed open and Captain Torr entered. "I have a copy of the Federation transmission. Looking over it I noticed Nightingale is among the ships listed as missing and presumed destroyed." The Klingon handed the PADD to Marion.

"There are only fourteen ships listed here, and Nightingale isn't one of them." Marion said after looking over the list.

"Those are the survivors." Torr said.

Rosh looked over Marion's shoulder as the CO switched the PADD's display to the losses. "Ninety-eight ships." Rosh said, his normally measured voice giving way to horrified astonishment. "And this all happened in the past few days?"

"Those ships were lost in one battle." Torr corrected. "I was there. Your compatriots fought bravely, but the Dominion ships just kept coming."

"I can't believe it. The seventh fleet wiped out in a single engagement." Rosh said.

"Oh my." Marion gasped. "The Noble has been lost. Doctor Kizmet, one of my medical staff, her fiancé was on that ship."

"Hopefully he got to an escape pod." Rosh said.

"Even if he did, I would not hold out hope. Before my ships escaped, we saw the Jem'Hadar destroying even the escape pods. They left no one alive." Torr explained.

"This isn't going to help our morale problem. I'm sure there are more of the crew than Doctor Kizmet that lost loved ones in that battle." Rosh said.

Marion put the list down, he couldn't bare to look at it any longer. "Captain Torr, after such a crushing defeat, how do you keep your men willing to fight?"

Torr thought for a moment. "We grieve, we sing songs and celebrate how or warrior brothers met there ends with courage and valor, and we continue to fight, to honor the memory our fallen and find our own glory."

"I'm afraid most of the species of the Federation don't feel like singing in times such as these." Marion replied.

"Then you must find something that will bring comfort to Federation species. Poor morale is a mutiny against the soul, and as dangerous to a ship as a genuinely treacherous crew." Torr said.

------------------------------------------------------------

Kizzy walked down the corridor trying to think of ways to raise Chief Reilly's spirits. Restoring his natural sight would do it, but it was a near medical impossibility to repair retinas as damaged as the Chief's. Kizmet smiled as she saw Doctor Marion heading down the corridor in the opposite direction. The Chief Medical Officer looked worried somehow.

"Good evening, Doctor Marion." Kizmet greeted him. She noticed he was avoiding looking her directly in the eye.

"Doctor Kizmet, I need to speak with you." Marion said. "I'm afraid I have some bad news."

------------------------------------------------------------

She wasn't hungry. She didn't know why she came to the galley or why she ordered anything from the replicator. She pushed the food around on her plate, staring it at so she could avoid the eyes of those around her.

"Doctor, may I sit with you?" The request was unmistakably from Sovek.

"If you want." Kizzy said softly. She figured if she could tolerate anyone's company right now, out of all the souls on the Nightingale, it would be an emotionless Vulcan.

Sovek sat down with a bowl of soup and ate in silence. After several minutes the Vulcan asked, "Is your meal not satisfactory?"

"It's fine, I'm just not hungry." Kizzy replied.

"It is illogical to come to the galley and order a meal if you have no hunger." Sovek said.

Kizzy dropped her fork and covered her face with her hands. "I really don't need any lectures in logic today."

"It was only an observation. Could I speak to you on another matter?"

"What's that?" Kizzy asked, wiping away a tear that had escaped her eye.

"I have been forbidden to have direct dealings with any patients. I am in need of someone to take over my rounds."

"This really isn't the best time Sovek."

"The time was not of my choosing. And while I may be prohibited from treating them, my patients still require care."

"Then ask someone else!" Kizzy spat at him.

"You are becoming needlessly emotional Doctor Kizmet. I will ask someone else."

"I'm sorry, it's not you Sovek. It's…" Kizzy's voice trailed off. "Never mind, you wouldn't understand."

"I doubt that, Vulcans are often able to fully understand many situations much quicker than other species; we lack the weakness of emotion."

Sovek's comments enraged Kizmet. She found herself yelling at the Vulcan. "Jacob, my fiancé, is dead! His ship was destroyed by the Jem'Hadar, can you understand that! Or does your lack of emotional weakness make my behavior seem illogical to you!"

"Maintain control." Sovek said, his rate of breathing increasing.

"Maintain control!" Kizzy yelled back thinking the Vulcan was speaking to her. "The man I was going to marry is dead! Do you know what that feels like?"

Sovek violently smacked his bowl of soup off the table in rage. "Do not lecture me on the difficulty of loss! I watched my son die on the surface of MN-1375!" Kizzy stared back in disbelief as tears ran down the Vulcan's face. "I might have been able to save him, but I was operating on another patient. I asked him to hold on. I asked too much." He then stood and left the galley.

------------------------------------------------------------

Unlike most of the crew, Jordan was feeling quite pleased with himself. A Klingon Captain had told him he had found glory. Torr was the first Klingon Jordan had met, but the Ensign knew that no Klingon Warrior gave praise lightly.

Jordan was passing by the galley when the door swooshed open and Kizzy almost ran into him. "Oh, Jordan, excuse me." She said.

Jordan thought back to Kizzy wishing him luck before he went to greet the Jem'Hadar First with Esco. He then remembered how badly he had treated her before that. "Kizzy, listen, I want to apologize for how I've been treating you."

"Not now Jordan." Kizzy said. She was fighting back tears and really didn't want to have another outburst like she had in the galley.

"I just want to say…"

"Not now." Kizzy cut him off. "I, I'm needed in sickbay. I have patients I need to attend to." She pushed pass him and put her hand over her eyes trying to push the tears back in.

Kizzy had kept enough control that Jordan didn't notice she had been on the verge of crying. He thought she was just being rude to him, intentionally. "Fine, forget about it. I'm not sorry." He called after her.

------------------------------------------------------------

Kizzy had to go to her quarters for twenty minutes to get herself under control. She had cried continuously since she had left the galley. She felt so stupid, first she yelled at Sovek, a man who had lost his son. Then there was Jordan, she had no idea what had happened with Jordan outside of the galley. And then there was Jacob. She knew it could happen, but she never really believed it. She thought the war would just delay their marriage. She never thought it would end like this, so far away from Jacob, so far away from home. She was now in sickbay checking on Chief Reilly. At least the Chief couldn't see how red her eyes were.

"Who's there?" Reilly asked.

"It's me Chief, Doctor Kizmet." She replied.

"Oh, are you ok?"

"What do you mean?" Kizzy had no idea how the Chief could have possibly pick up on her mood.

"Well, your being so quiet. You're not trying to convince me everything will be ok."

"I thought you didn't like me telling you those things."

"I don't, I was just about to thank you." Reilly half chuckled at his own joke.

Kizzy signed. "I'm beginning to think you're right, Chief. Maybe when you loose some things, your life can never be as good as it once was."

------------------------------------------------------------

Jordan paced back and forth across his quarters while Hudson sat at the room's only desk. "I tried, Hud. I tried apologizing, but she wouldn't listen."

"So?" Hudson asked. "Try again. I know for a fact that she likes you."

"She's engaged." Jordan shot back.

"I meant as a friend, Jordo. She likes you as a friend."

"Maybe once, but not anymore. You weren't there today, Hud. You didn't see how she was acting." Jordan said. "Forget it. I'm through with her."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Come." Rosh said from his desk. The XO stood when he saw Marion was his visitor. "How can I help you, sir?"

"I had an idea on how we might address the morale problem." Marion said.

"Are we going to sit around and sing sad songs?" Rosh asked.

"Not exactly." Marion replied. "Arrange for the crew to assemble in the shuttle bay tomorrow morning."

------------------------------------------------------------

The shuttle bay was crowded. Along with the crew of the Nightingale, many patients and even Torr and several of his officers had shown up to pay their respects. The main bay doors had been opened so that the stars could be seen beyond the force field. Marion stood at a podium with his back to the space-scape. In front of him Lieutenant Rosh, Ensign Singer, Ensign Hudson, and Crewman Doral held the four corners of the flag of the United Federation of Planets. The men held the powder blue flag taught and flat.

Marion took a deep breath and began. "We are gathered here today in memory of Crewman Christopher Adkins and our compatriots that lost their lives at the battle of MN-1375. This ship's mission is one of life. I know none of you expected us to be forced into battle, but we were forced into it regardless. I know this ship wasn't build for what we have been demanding of it, but thanks to the commitment and sacrifice of this crew. Of men like Christopher Adkins, this ship was able to rise above its station. The truth is we are at war, and this war continues to take from us." Marion made eye contact with Ensign Hudson. "It takes our shipmates," the CO found Kizmet in the front of the crowd, "our closest friends," he then looked to Sovek, who stood near the back of the shuttle bay, "our dearest blood."

Marion paused a moment before continuing. "What we must remember, what is so easy to forget in times as difficult as these, is that our mission is a success. This ship is now treating one hundred and twenty percent of its patient capacity, and those patients' prognosis is good. This ship's mission is one of life, and we are accomplishing that mission."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Sovek." Marion called, catching up to the Vulcan after the memorial service. "Did you enjoy the ceremony?"

"It was fascinating to witness a human death ritual." Sovek replied.

"I heard about your son, and I am sorry. You have my condolences."

"It is I who should apologize. My behavior was not logical. I should have controlled my emotions more effectively, rather than letting them interfere with my duties."

"Sovek, you lost your son, it's perfectly logical, you loved him."

"Love is not logical. It is not logical to value one life above another."

"Tell me, in triage why do we give treatment to the healthiest patients first?" Marion asked.

"The healthier patients have the best potential for survival." Sovek answered.

"Maybe you value your son more than others because you knew the potential he had, the potential that you helped nurture as a father, and the potential that was cut short in front of your eyes."

Sovek weighed the argument before replying. "Perhaps. How do humans deal with such losses?"

"We talk about the deceased's life. We hold funerals. We share the burden we feel."

"There is some logic in that." Sovek said after some time. "Doctor Marion, if it is no imposition, may I tell you about my son?"


	7. Night Swimming

**Chapter 7: Night Swimming**

Nightingale's sickbay was uncharacteristically noisy. The Klingon patients were well on their way to recovery and showed their regained health by boisterously singing songs and recalling tales of battle. Marion looked over the PADD Nurse Haas had just handed him. The Klingons' injuries had been light compared to the ones the Federation ground troops sustained on MN-1375.

Marion looked up from the report when he heard heavy steps heading in his direction. Captain Torr was quickly approaching followed by Lieutenant Rosh. "Commander Marion, are my men ready to return to duty?" Torr asked as he stopped in front of the Doctor.

"I can clear most of them for duty. There are two or three that should have another day of rest. They are fresh out of surgery and still at risk of infection." Marion said.

"Infection is a risk they will have to take. My ships are leaving in two hours, and I need every one of my warriors at their stations." Torr stated.

"Where are we going?" Marion asked.

"We aren't going with them." Rosh interjected. "Captain Torr sent one his Birds of Prey to scout out the surrounding area. The Dominion Battleship is heading in this direction."

Torr continued. "There are a limited number of places in this area of space where four ships could hide themselves from long range sensors. It will not be long before the Jem'Hadar decide to take a closer look at the pulsar we are orbiting."

"Where are we supposed to go? The Nightingale can't outrun the Battleship." Marion asked. He had felt a certain degree of security having three Klingon ships escorting the Nightingale. Marion was not very experienced in combat, but in the past week he had gained enough understanding to know that Nightingale had been lucky to survive the attacks it had endured. Marion feared another attack would be fatal.

"Captain Torr has given us the coordinates of a planet where his ships engaged a squadron of Jem'Hadar Assault Ships. One of the vessels crashed into the surface of the planet. If we're luck we may be able to scavenge parts to repair our damaged warp nacelle." Rosh explained.

"The planet is composed of heavy metals, and should mask your ship's warp signature. In the meantime I will give your Dominion Battleship something else to chase." Torr assured the Doctor.

------------------------------------------------------------

Kizmet wanted to be alone, or maybe she just felt alone. She wasn't sure. Either way she had no idea what she was doing in the galley. With many of the patients from MN-1375 recovering the galley was even more crowded than normal. It didn't make sense for Kizzy to be there, not if she wanted to be alone. But not much had made sense since Jacob had died. She was looking at a PADD, pretending to read the medical study it displayed. In actuality she was just avoiding eye contact with those around her. Kizmet was doing such a good job of avoiding eye contract with others that she didn't even notice that someone had sat down across the table.

"My dear Doctor, you are looking in desperate need of company." A familiar voice came from across the table. Kizzy looked up, finally noticing the gray skinned new comer, but she did not recognize who it was until the gray pigment warmed to a deep golden tan, matching her own.

"Esco, how are you doing?" Kizzy asked in a tone much less cheerful and optimistic than her usual demeanor.

"Much better than you, if your voice is any indication." The Nevlian said, munching on a chip of wood from his plate.

"I'm sorry, I just don't feel like talking much right now." Kizzy said, looking back down at her PADD.

"I doubt that. If you were trying to avoid company you would not have come to the galley. The one space on the ship that most encourages casual conversation."

"Maybe I was just hungry"

"Then where is your food?" Esco asked, gesturing to his own plate and the lack of one in front of Kizzy.

"You're really having fun with me aren't you?"

"Some, but I am also concerned as to what is troubling you."

Kizzy didn't answer. Her throat was closing up, and she could feel the tears trying to escape her eyes. She dropped the PADD and put her hand over her eyes.

Esco dropped the wood chip in his had back onto his plate and stared at his meal. "I know what it is to carry a deep pain of the soul. It is like trying to carry a great stone, you feel as if the weight of it will crush you. But it is easier to bear if you ask someone to share it."

Kizzy wiped the tears from her eyes. "I don't know if there is anyone like that for me… anymore."

"I think that's why you came here to the galley. You're looking for someone to share your pain. If you do not wish to share it with me, please share it with someone before you are crushed under its weight."

"Who did you share your pain with?"

Esco's complexion turned too a dark magenta as the question washed over him. "I've shared it with no one."

"The weight hasn't crushed you."

"In time, doctor." Esco said quietly. He stared at the table and took a deep breath. When he looked up again his skin had returned to the golden tan that match Kizmet's own. "What are you reading?" He asked.

Kizzy was relieved that Esco had changed the subject. "It's a medical research by an optometrist from Zosonpgang. He was experimenting with an isogenic enzyme to help regenerate ocular tissues. I thought I might be able to find a way to help Chief Reilly." Kizzy then sighed. "But we don't have any of this experimental enzyme onboard."

"You can't replicated it or synthesize it?" Esco asked.

Kizmet shook her head. "And according to the research, there is a only a limited amount of time after the injury occurs that the procedure has any chance of being successful."

"May I see?" Esco asked. Kizmet handed him the PADD. The Nevlian browsed through it until he reached a chemical diagram of the substance. "This is Ketracel." He said.

"The drug the Jem'Hadar are addicted to?" Kizzy asked in disbelief.

"Ketracel White is much more than a drug. It enhances body functions, strength, speed, the immune system, healing processes. And this substance is chemically identical to it." Esco explained.

Kizmet's excitement about the revelation quickly left her as she realized she was no closer to secuing a supply of the drug. "I don't suppose you know where I could get some Ketracel White."

"As a matter of fact, I believe the ship is heading towards a supply of it right now." Esco said.

------------------------------------------------------------

"We'll be arriving at the coordinates The Klingons provided in twenty minutes." Franks reported from the helm.

"Excellent." Marion said from the command chair. "Hopefully we will find all the parts we need."

"I'll order Mr. Hudson to assemble his technicians." Rosh said from the port station. "Lieutenant Franks, who will be piloting the Runabout?"

"I have ordered Ensign Singer to pilot the McCoy. He should be preflighting it now, would you like me to check up on him, sir?" The helmsman asked.

"That's alright, I'm sure Ensign Singer is carting out his duties." Rosh replied.

"Mr. Rosh, how do we know we will be able to use the parts from the Dominion ship?" Marion asked.

"I'm not sure who there is to object." Rosh answered.

"That's not what I meant." Marion took a moment to figure out just how to explain his concern. "If a Tellerite were to have a kidney failure, I could not replace it with an organ from a Bolian. The physiologies of the two races are simply incompatible. Are we sure that the parts from a Dominion ship are even compatible with our own?"

"I don't know." Rosh admitted. "But I think there is someone onboard who does." The Andorian tapped his communicator. "Rosh to Esco."

After a moment Esco's voce came across the comm. "Lieutenant Rosh, allow me to guess, you would like my assistance in recovering parts from the Jem'Hadar Assault ship and installing them on Nightingale."

"Mr. Esco, in light of all your other capabilities I am beginning to believe Nevlians must be telepathic as well." Rosh said.

"Not at all, I am just very astute. It is obvious that I have had prior dealing with the Dominion, experience I highly doubt any of your crew share. I thought it only a matter of time before you solicited my assistance." Rosh explained.

"Fair enough. Please meet Ensign Hudson's engineering team in the shuttle bay in twenty minutes." Rosh instructed. "And you are sure that Dominion technologies are compatible with our own?"

"Quite sure, Lieutenant. Most of it, anyway." Esco said before signing off.

The door to the bridge then swooshed open. The three Starfleet officers all turned to see Doctor Kizmet standing in the doorway.

"Can I help you Doctor?" Marion asked.

"I need to talk to you about Chief Reilly." Kizzy said, feeling out of place standing on the bridge. "It can't wait."

Marion stepped to the back of the bridge and spoke quietly with the young women. After a short conversation Marion nodded, and Kizmet left the bridge.

"Is everything alright?" Rosh asked.

"Fine." Marion replied. "Doctor Kizmet will be joining the away team."

------------------------------------------------------------

Chief Reilly couldn't remember a time he was on a starship and in low spirits. When he was young he couldn't wait to leave the weighty bonds of natural gravity and head off into the void of space. He never experienced the longing to be planetside like many young starfarers do. He didn't understand the homesickness his friends complained about until the end of his first tour. He had to wait an agonizing two months on Earth before his new ship left for the stars again. "Underway is the only way", he used to tell crewman he served with. He loved being part of a crew, always having some job vital to the ship before him, knowing that even a task as mundane as calibrating the injector assembly could prove crucial to the survival of the ship while it traveled through the void. But that part of his life was over as far as he could see. He would always be in a void now, but not the massless space between planetary systems, he was now trapped in the dark void of blindness. He had been relieved of his duties and reclassified as a patient. He was useless to Starfleet now.

"How are you doing Chief?" Doctor Kizmet asked.

"Still blind." He said. "Do you really need to check on me this much? I was blind yesterday and chances are I will be blind tomorrow."

"This time is different. I have to ask you permission to perform a procedure."

"The implant thing again? I thought you said we had to wait until we got back to starbase to do that. Did we get home without anybody telling me?"

"We're still not home yet Chief, but I've come across a treatment that may be able to restore your sight. There has been very little research done on the technique, it may not even work, but there is a possibility that it may partially maybe even fully restore your vision."

"I knew there was a way. Anything can be fix, that's what I always told my crewmen. Let's get started." The Chief replied, feeling excitement and hope surge through his being. "Why didn't you tell me about this sooner? I want to go under the knife right now."

"We'll have to wait a little while before we can start. The treatment is time critical, and I didn't think we would come across a supply of the drug before our window had passed. That's why I didn't bring it up." Kizmet explained.

"You don't keep that kind of stuff on board?"

"The drug is Ketracel White."

"You mean the stuff the Jem'Hadar are addicted too? How do you come across a supply of that?" The Chief asked in disbelief.

------------------------------------------------------------

Jordan was working his way through the start up sequence on the McCoy. He was surprised that Franks hadn't checked up on him over the comm.

"Hey Jordo." Hudson said walking into the cockpit from the passageway that led to the medical hold.

"What's up Hud? Your crew ready to go?" Jordan asked, turning to face his friend.

"Waiting on a couple of stragglers." Hudson said. "You know, I really think you should…"

"Hold on a second." Jordan said turning back to his instruments.

"Something wrong?" Hudson asked.

"The starboard nacelle looked like it was getting a little hot on startup, but it's with limits. Startup is complete, we are ready to go." Jordan said. "What was it you were saying?"

------------------------------------------------------------

Esco was standing at the stern of the McCoy staring at an odd area of the shuttlebay's deck plating. He ran his foot over the deformation and felt the rippled texture of the deck. "Excuse me, crewman." He said, stopping a passing engineering technician. Esco pointed at the odd rippling in the deck. "What is that?"

"The deck was warped by a disruptor blast back in the Badlands." The crewman answered. He then pointed at a metal patch welded on the shuttlebay door. "It came through right there. We scrubbed off the scorch marks, but we haven't had time to smooth out the deck yet."

------------------------------------------------------------

"I was saying I really think you should try to work things out with Kizmet." Hudson said, finishing his previous thought.

"Why? What is your obsession with me and her getting along? She is engaged to some other guy, remember?" Jordan said

"I just think it would make things a lot easier since…"

"Since what? What things will it make easier?" Jordan interrupted. "I told you, I am through with that girl, she doesn't matter to me."

The port door to the cockpit then swooshed open. Both Jordan and Hudson turned to see Kizzy stepping in from the shuttlebay.

"Since she's coming with us." Hudson finished quietly. He then turned to Kizzy and pointed to the copilot chair. "Why don't you sit up here? It's a lot more comfortable than the medical hold, especially a medical hold filled with my engineers."

"Thank you, Matt." Kizzy said, and took the seat.

"Well, I better go make sure my techs are all ready." Hudson said. Jordon shot Hud a dirty look, but the engineer just smiled back and left through the door he had come in.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Entering standard orbit." Franks reported.

"Captain Torr wasn't exaggerating." Rosh said, looking over the sensor readouts. "There are exceptionally high concentrations of Kelvanite in the planet's crust. Our warp signature will be masked completely. As anticipated our targeting sensors are nearly useless when we turn them towards the planet, so transporters won't function."

"Can we find the Jem'Hadar Assault ship without targeting sensors?" Marion asked.

"That depends. The engines of all starships emit charged ions. In space or a fluid medium the charge dissipates quickly, but if the ship comes near a conductive material, the charge will remain for some time. If the assault ship's engines were still emitting an ion trail when it crashed the ore in the ground should retain the charge." Rosh switched the sensor read out to display magnetic flux. "I'm picking up an odd divergence in the planet's natural magnetic field. I'm displaying the area on screen." Rosh tapped a control and the main viewscreen switched from an orbital view to a visual scan of the surface. A large grassy plain with what looked like a short black hash mark in the center could be seen.

"Can you make it bigger?" Marion asked.

"Maximum magnification." Rosh said pressing another control. The unmistakable beetle shape of a Jem'Hadar Assault Ship was clearly seen at the end of scorched path the ship had cut through the grassy plain during its forced landing. "That's it."

"Are there any survivors?" Marion asked.

"I can't tell, sir. The Kelvanite is interfering with the scans. But I did equip the away team with the three remaining hand phasers." Rosh replied.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Mr. Hudson, I was wondering if I shouldn't have a phaser?" Esco asked. "After all, the Jem'Hadar are not very fond of me." The Nevlian used one of the medical tables to steady himself against a slight jolt in the medical hold as the McCoy lifted of the deck and fired it maneuvering thrusters to back the runabout out of the shuttlebay.

"Sorry, Esco. But we only have three. The fourth got sucked out into space in our last confrontation with the Jem'Hadar." Hudson explained.

"This ship was only issue four phasers?" Esco asked.

"Shouldn't you know that? I thought you were an intelligence officer." Hudson replied mockingly.

"I am." Esco said. "But a ship this size having that few phasers has nothing to do with intelligence, it is pure stupidity."

------------------------------------------------------------

Jordan found himself making corrections for the slightest deviation from the desired course. He wondered if there had ever been a track that had conformed so precisely to the preflighted course. His precision and accuracy was unnecessary for such a simple flight plan, but it did make him look busy, so it was easier to ignore the girl sitting next to him.

Kizzy did not feel any great desire to talk to Jordan either. She didn't feel like talking to anybody. She didn't quite understand why, but sitting silently in the runabout next to Jordan, it was even harder than normal to not think of Jacob. She wished they were on the planet already, so she could distract herself with work.

The stars in the forward window began to fade away, and a blue haze became more pronounced until the black of space had been blocked out by the brilliant blue of a daytime sky. White wisps ran across the cockpit's windows as the McCoy passed through a cloud layer. The runabout broke out into clear skies eight thousand feet above the ground. The Assault ship could clearly be seen at the end of a dirt and soil trail it had kicked up in the otherwise undisturbed green plane.

"We're on final approach." Jordan announced into the comm.

"Have you scanned for life signs?" Esco's voice came back.

"Scanning." Jordan said. "I'm not picking anything up, but the sensor resolution is pretty low."

"The Kelvanite is interfering with the scans, but I think we can trust them at this close a range." Hudson's voice came over the come. "We'll still inspect the ship with phasers drawn, just in case."

------------------------------------------------------------

The McCoy set down gently near the downed Assault Ship. The doors to the medical hold opened and Ensign Hudson, followed by two technicians, stepped out holding their phasers at the ready. The air smelled slightly foul. Several limp bodies of Jem'Hadar soldiers could be seen lying in unnatural positions around their ship. Esco and the rest of the engineering team

Jordan walked up beside Hudson. "Wow, its hot out here." He said.

"It's nice to finally be out in the sun again." Kizmet commented. She flipped open a tricorder and scanned the nearest Jem'Hadar. "He's dead."

"For several days from the smell of it." Esco said.

Kizzy pointed her tricoder towards the Assault ship. "I'm picking up ten other bio masses, but no life signs."

"That's only eleven." Esco said with concern.

"Is that bad?" Hudson asked.

"The standard crew complement of an Assualt ship is twelve." Esco replied.

Kizmet knelt down next to the dead Jem'Hadar. The tube coming out of the soldier's neck was empty. She reached into the receptacle affixed to his chest at the other end of the tube and pulled out a glass container. "Empty." She said dejectedly. She had to find some Ketracel for the Chief's procedure.

"That's probably what he died from, they can't survive without it." Esco said, kneeling beside her. He removed the Jem'Hadar's side arm from is holster. He stood up and turned to Hudson. "You should have your men collect any weapons they see. The ship could use them, and we should be armed incase that missing crew member shows up."

The team spread out, scavenging the weapons they found and checking for any full vials of Ketracel White. Nine Jem'Hadar bodies were found outside the ship, none had a trace of White left in their system let alone left in the chest mounted dispenser.

------------------------------------------------------------

Hudson dropped down from an open hatch in the overhead of the bridge of the assault ship. He swept the space with his phaser. There were two more corpses lying on the bridge, one Jem'Hadar and one Vorta. "Clear." He called.

Jordan, Esco, and Kizmet came down through the hatch. Kizzy immediately went to the Jem'Hadar. Esco picked up an odd looking box with a hole blown in it.

"These two make eleven." Hudson said, referring to the bodies.

"What's that?" Jordan asked gesturing towards the box.

"It contained the vials of Ketracel White for this ship, but appears someone tried to open it with a phaser. Any attempt to open a box like this by force, and the box destroys the White." Esco explained.

"Then why try to open it by force?" Hudson asked.

"The only person that can open this box is a live Vorta. And the ship's Vorta seems to have died in the crash." Esco said. "With the Vorta as the only source of the drug, the Jem'Hadar's loyalty to the Dominion is guaranteed."

"That's odd, it looks like the air filtration system hasn't been working for a month." Kizzy said looking at her tricorder. "Or these Jem'Hadar shed dead skin cells like no species I've seen; there is an incredible amount of Jem'Hadar bio-matter in the air."

Esco looked over Kizzy'z shoulder at the tricorder read out. "Looks like we found number twelve." His comment drew quizzical looks from everyone standing on the bridge. "The unaccounted for Jem'Hadar was vaporized, by this one." Esco nodded towards the soldier lying in front of him. The soldier was clutching his pistol.

"He was shot too." Kizzy said scanning the dead Jem'Hadar's wound. "He bled to death."

"Why would the kill each other?" Jordan asked.

"Probably over this box." Esco said tossing the box aside. "But is doesn't matter."

Kizzy reached into the dead soldier's dispenser. She felt the glass vial and closed her eyes as she pulled it out. This was the Chief's last hope for treatment. She opened her eyes to see a vial filled slightly less than halfway with a white liquid. It was enough. "We should get this back to the ship as soon as possible. The sooner I can give Chief Reilly the treatment, the better the chances of success."

"My techs should have all of our equipment unloaded by now. We'll have to be here for awhile. Jordo, why don't you run the Doctor back to Nightingale while my team gets to work." Hudson said.

"Alright. Come on, Doctor." Jordan said, turning towards the hatch.

------------------------------------------------------------

Jordan and Kizzy were sharing another uncomfortable silence in the cockpit of the McCoy as the craft lifted off the ground and began climbing to altitude. Jordan didn't mind piloting a runabout. He was actually glad that he was flying rather than assisting the engineering team. What he was annoyed about was that he seemed to be doing another favor for Kizzy. He knew that this trip back to the Nightingale was to help the Chief, and he really hoped the treatment would work. But after the way she treated him, the way she wouldn't even hear his apology. Jordan was pulled out of his brooding when the entire runabout shuttered.

"What was that?" Kizmet asked, gripping the armrest of her chair.

"Maybe we hit a pocket of turbulent air." Jordan said, checking the inertial damping system. It was in the green. The McCoy shuttered again, this time much more violently. The runabout was pulling to the right, despite Jordan trying to correct the heading drift. It was like a maneuvering thruster had been left on.

Towards the stern of the vessel drive plasma had melted a small hole through the alloy of the starboard nacelle that had been fatigued by a phased polaron beam from the Jem'Hadar assault ship that had punched through the shuttlebay door almost a week before. The superheated plasma widened the hole exponentially.

"The starboard nacelle temperature is all over the place." Jordan said as the McCoy became increasingly hard to control.

"Is that bad?" Kizzy asked. There was a sudden jolt and the runabout began rolling out of control. Both she and Jordan had to strain to sit upright.

"Looks like the nacelle exploded. It took out most of the starboard thrusters along with it." Jordan said over the warning sirens that begun to sound as system after system began to fail. The months of emergency procedure training every Starfleet officer had to endure took control of Jordan's actions like an instinctive response. He shut off the plasma flow to the starboard nacelle, and then he isolated the antimatter pod from the power reactor. He then tried the emergency transporters, the system replied with an unpromising beep. "Emergency transporters can't find a destination point, it's the damn Kelvanite. We're going to have to eject the command module. Sit up straight in your chair, head against the headrest, arms on the armrests."

Kizzy was sitting slightly hunched over and beginning to hyperventilate. The ground, spinning as it was, grew closer and closer in the forward window.

"Kizzy!" Jordan yelled. "Put your head against the headrest and your arms on the armrests!"

Kizmet was startled by the hollering, but the message finally registered. She sat rigid, pressed against the back of her chair. Jordan pressed a control and a strap shot up from in between Kizzy's legs, it was met around her breastbone by two others from over either shoulder. The straps pulled taught and held her tight to her chair. She looked to Jordan, he was restrained as well.

------------------------------------------------------------

"How is the away team doing?" Marion asked, entering the bridge.

"Ensign Hudson signaled from the surface. He reports that his team has identified all the parts necessary to repair our damaged nacelle, but it will take some time to remove them from the assault ship. He also said Ensign Singer and Doctor Kizmet are returning to the ship with a vial of Ketracel White." Rosh reported.

"Everything seems to be going as well as expected." Marion said. The CO was pleased, the ship would soon be repaired and he could take his patients back behind friendly lines, where they belonged.

"Transmission coming in from the McCoy." Franks said.

The message was short, but the meaning was immediately apparent to the Starfleet officers, even to Marion who feared he was about to learn another hard lesson in command. "McCoy to Nightingale." Jordan's voice sounded over the comm. "Ditch, ditch, ditch."

------------------------------------------------------------

Kizzy's breaths were fast and shallow. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. There was no sky in the window, only the ground spinning in a green blur.

"Ditch, ditch, ditch." Jordan hollered.

Kizzy felt sick, partly from the spinning, but mostly from her panic.

"Hold on." Jordan told her. There was a loud clank as an emergency bulkhead sealed off the aft door of the command module. Then there was a jolt from behind as explosive bolts forcefully separated the cockpit from the rest of the runabout. "Stardrive section released." Jordan said. His hands flew over the flight controls, and the spinning in the forward window ceased. "Leveling descent."

Kizzy felt like her body was being pulled downward from the inside. Looking out the window she saw the sky creep back into view. The G-forces eased off her body as the module leveled off. The green land beneath them suddenly ended and was replaced by a deep blue.

"Looks like we're making a water landing." Jordan said.

Kizzy was amazed at how calm he seemed, she couldn't keep a thought in her head, fear prevented any coherent idea from forming.

"Brace for impact!" Jordan commanded.

The sea was coming up fast as the command module plummeted downwards. Kizzy closed her eyes and grit her teeth. Violent splashes filled the forward window as the module struck the water. It was then airborne again, launched several meters into the air by the force of its own impact. Console and screens went dark as their delicate electronics were shattered by the force of the crash. The emergency harnesses held Jordan and Kizmet securely in their seats and in much better condition than the damaged electronics. The module skipped across the surface of the water twice more before bobbing to a relative stop.

------------------------------------------------------------

"The emergency beacon should be broadcasting." Rosh said, swiftly but methodically going through every scanning method he knew. "The signal may be distorted, make sure you monitor the surrounding frequency bands."

"There is too much interference from the metals in the crust of the planet." Franks replied. "I'm not picking up anything."

"What does that mean?" Marion asked.

Rosh sighed. "It means we have no idea where our people are."

------------------------------------------------------------

Jordan looked at his feet; they rested on the floor in a pool of water. He craned his neck and looked around the cockpit. More water was slowly trickling, but he couldn't tell from where. He tried to operate the console in front of him, but the computer did not respond. The command module was useless, and it was slowly filling with water. Again his emergency procedure training took over his actions.

"We've got to get out of here!" Kizzy screamed, grabbing at the straps that held her to her seat. "How do you get this off? I can't get it off!"

"Kizzy! Be quiet and listen up!" Jordan yelled. The volume and authority in his voice silence the doctor immediately. "We are going to get out of here, but you can't un-strap yourself yet." He said. "I'm going to open the doors, but this module is not buoyant. That means water will come rushing in. We are going to stay strapped in as the water comes in, so the current doesn't fling us against the bulkheads. Do you understand?"

Kizzy nodded, her panic had her on the verge of tears.

"This module is also top heavy, so it is going to flip over once it fills with water." Jordan continued. "It will be very disorienting and it is going to get dark, so I want you to put one hand on the console in front of you and hold one to it. That will be your reference point. Once the cockpit is completely filled with water and it has stopped rotating, that reference point with let you know where you are. You will then release your straps with that button in the middle of your chest. Move to your right and head out the door on. Do you understand?"

Kizzy nodded again.

"When you are out, swim to the surface. Air bubbles float to the surface, remember to follow the bubbles. Do you understand?"

Kizzy nodded.

"Good, now tell me what we're going to do when the doors open."

Kizzy's voice shook as she spoke. "Grab the console, let the water come in. Wait until it stops moving, release the straps, go to the right, follow the bubbles."

"Good." Jordan said. "Ready?"

Kizzy took a deep breath and tried to calm herself without much success. She grabbed the console in front of her, then looked back at Jordan and nodded. "Ready."

Jordan pressed one of the only controls that was still lit on his console. Explosive bolts fired and blew off the port and starboard doors of the cockpit. The water came in at a fast and steady rate. Kizzy felt water seep down her shoes as the level rose past her ankles. As the level rose past her waist the chill of the water made her breath shallow, she had to concentrate to force her breathing under control. When the water was up to her chest the entire cockpit began to rotate to the left. She was lifted out of the water as the port side of the module sank. She took a deep breath and was plunged back into the water head first. After a moment the movement stopped. She pressed the button and the straps retracted. "To the right." She said in her head. She pulled herself along the consoles hand over hand until she got to the door. She pulled herself out and began to swim hard. As she kicked, she was surprised by how far the module had sunk. Several small bubbles of air escaped her nose, and unexpectedly floated towards her feet. She was swimming in the wrong direction. She reversed course. Her chest spasmed, begging her for more air. She knew that humans still had half a minute of air left when this natural response occurred, but she was panicked, and she kicked more frantically.

She burst to the surface and sucked in new air. She swallowed a mouth load of metallic tasting water as she gasped for air. She felt something pulling at her shoulders, she was dragged onto something slippery, and she began to cough up the water she swallowed.

------------------------------------------------------------

"We've located the stardrive section of the McCoy by scanning for its ion trail. But we suspect the command module made a water landing, so similar scans were useless." Rosh said over the comm.

Hudson couldn't believe it. He knew Jordan's skills as a pilot were as good as they came. It had to of been an engineering flaw. If Jordan was dead, Hudson was responsible. "I'll figure out a way to find them, sir."

"We still need the parts from the Assault Ship Mr. Hudson. That is still your first priority. We'll send down the Phlox to pick up your team and all you've scavenged." Rosh said.

"Negative, sir. The Phlox is down; its antimatter pod is fueling the Nightingale." Hudson said. "A runabout can make an emergency landing on the surface on its fusion reactors alone, but its antimatter reactor needs to be functioning for it to take off again and reach escape velocity."

"Couldn't the Phlox borrow the pod?" Rosh asked.

"I wouldn't recommend it. After that pod is unhooked from Nightingale's reactor we'll only have thirty minutes to put it back before auxiliary power runs out. Non-vital systems will then shut down, including medical equipment that is still keeping some patients alive."

"It would take at least an hour just to recover you and your team." Rosh said. "There's just not enough time."

------------------------------------------------------------

Finally catching her breath, Kizzy looked up at her surroundings. She was in the middle of a large octagonal yellow raft. In every direction nothing could be seen but deep blue sea. "What happened?" She finally asked.

Jordan was lying at one end of the raft, his hands clasped across his chest and his head resting on the raft wall. He raised his head to look at Kizzy. "We crashed." He said.

She sighed and shook her head. "I mean, why did we crash?"

Jordan looked o the sky, resting his head on the raft wall again. What kind of question was that? Jordan felt like she was blaming him. "The starboard nacelle exploded, so we crashed. I don't know why. It doesn't matter, we got out alive and I managed to grab the raft from under my seat."

"When are they coming for us?" Kizmet asked.

"I don't know." Jordan said quietly.

"Well, did you contact them?" Kizzy asked. Jordan said nothing. "They are coming aren't they?"

"I don't know. Somehow I…" Jordan sighed. "I lost my communicator getting out of the command module."

------------------------------------------------------------

The heat didn't help Hudson get his head around the problem. Neither was the fact that his friend was lost somewhere else on the planet, or the possibility that his own team was stranded here. His technicians were collecting anything that could be used in the Nightingale's repairs; most importantly a section of one of the Assault Ship's warp nacelles was being removed. But how would he get these parts back to the Nightingale and properly installed?

He pulled out his tricorder, scanning the Assault Ship and the surrounding plain once again. Down here on the surface, so close to the downed ship, the scans were fairly clear. At least clear enough for a transporter lock. If only Hudson could bring the Nightingale's targeting scanners down here to the surface. Hudson gasped slightly as inspiration struck. He moved closer to the assault ship and scanned it again, it should work.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Does the Assault ship have any shuttles?" Marion asked. He and Lieutenant Rosh were sitting at Marion's desk in the CO's quarters.

"None that are serviceable, sir. They were destroyed in the crash." Rosh replied.

"What about their antimatter? Could we use that to power the other runabout?"

"We could use it if we could get it into our reactor. The Dominion stores its antimatter in a tank that is physically part of the ship instead of pods. We could fill an antimatter pod from it if we had a spare one, but we do not have any spare pods." Rosh explained.

"We have been able to survive three attacks from Dominion ships. Now it appears circumstance will achieve what the Jem'Hadar could not." Marion said despondently.

"The ship is not in immediate danger, sir. We are in are far safer now than we were in the Badlands." Rosh said.

Marion turned in his chair and looked out the window at the planet below. "But members of our crew are stranded on the surface, we're not even certain that two of them are alive."

"Mr. Franks and I did calculate a likely crash area. They probably made a water landing, but the search area is the size of Calto province on Andor."

The men sat in silence until a voice came over the comm. "Hudson to Lieutenant Rosh. I have an idea."

------------------------------------------------------------

"God it's hot." Jordan said. They were the first words between the rafts two occupants in almost twenty minutes.

"It feels good." Kizzy said. She was lying on the other side of the raft. "It reminds me of home. I missed being in the sun."

Jordan sat up and unzipped the black and grey over-shirt of his uniform. He wrestled himself out of the wet garment and threw it aside.

"What are you doing?" Kizzy asked.

"I'm hot." Jordan said, next removing the long sleeved red shirt he wore underneath.

"You'll burn. You have to keep your skin covered." Kizzy protested.

"At least I won't be hot." He lay back down and sighed in relief as the breeze cooled his bare skin.

"You're impossible. I'm trying to help you, I am a Doctor." Kizzy huffed.

"Maybe I'll let you treat my sunburn." Jordan replied without looking up. He paused for a moment then added, "On second thought, never mind. I don't need you doing me any favors."

"Is that what this is about?" Kizzy asked. She looked down and stared at the yellow of the raft bottom. "What did I ever do that was so wrong?"

Jordan opened his eyes and looked at the girl across from him. "I was wrong about that, I tried to tell you." He sat up. Kizzy looked up and the two locked eyes for a moment before both adverted their gaze to the floor of the raft. Jordan then said quietly, "I tried to apologize, but you didn't care. You brushed me aside and wouldn't even hear me out."

"It wasn't you Jordan." Kizzy said. She rubbed the corner of her eye, trying to wipe away tears before they formed. "It's Jacob…" The name was almost choked off as her throat tightened. She fought to keep control, but she knew she would burst into tears at any moment.

Jordan stared at the bottom of the raft. He didn't see Kizzy's face reddening in her struggle to control her emotions. He didn't even see the yellow of the raft. All he saw was Kizzy wrapping her arms around Jacob Millen's neck on the shuttlebay of the Noble. He remembered how betrayed he felt, and it made him angry. "Your fiancé doesn't want you talking to me?" Jordan looked up when he heard sobs.

Kizzy raised her head, tears streaming down her face. "The Noble was destroyed. Jacob is dead."

------------------------------------------------------------

"I've inputted the scan into the transporter buffer." Rosh told Marion. The two men were standing in front of the transporter panel in sickbay. "Energizing." Rosh activated the transporter. A shimmering light appeared on the deck, not far from the two officers. When the light died out, there was a Jem'Hadar disruptor pistol in its place. The XO picked up the weapon and tapped his comm. badge. "Rosh to Hudson. Transport complete, we have the disruptor."

"Is it functional?" Hudson asked over the comm.

Rosh pressed a button on the transporter panel, activating the force field they had rigged for their escape from the badlands. He raised the disruptor and fired it into the field. Marion jumped as a blue beam lashed out from the pistol and the force field sizzled as it absorbed the energy. "It works." Rosh said.

"We'll begin scanning the rest of the weapons and equipment for transport immediately." The engineer said.

"Excellent." Marion said smiling. "Then you and your team can scan yourselves and get back to the ship."

"Sir, this method of transport will allow us to recover the equipment we've scavenged." Hudson let out a sigh. "But it is not safe for bio-transport. After scanning an object with our tricorders and then transmitting that pattern to Nightingale's transporter buffer, the scan is half a minute old. Since we are only transporting inanimate objects, nothing in the pattern has changed between the scan and the actual transport. However, living beings breathe, pump blood, have a constantly changing transporter pattern. Simply by shifting weight from one foot to another in between the tricorder scan and the transport, a person could materialize with half their blood vessels out of alignment. I've run through the numbers, there is less than a fifteen percent chance for a successful bio-transport."

"Ensign Hudson, I'm going to need my chief engineer back onboard to finish these repairs." Rosh said.

"I can't see how that is going to be possible, sir. You have surgeons onboard, they put bodies back together. I'm sure I'll be able to talk them through putting the ship back together. Besides, my team and I aren't going anywhere. Starfleet can send someone for us after Nightingale makes it home." Hudson said from the surface miles beneath the Nightingale, but his voice sounded even more distant. The grave reality of his words was carried in his tone of voice.

"What about Doctor Kizmet and Ensign Singer?" Marion asked. "We still don't know where they are, if they need help."

"Nightingale's safety should be our chief concern, and that safety can't be assured until the ship is back in Federation space." Hudson replied.

Rosh turned off the comm. and turned to Marion. "He's right, sir." Marion looked at the Andorian for a moment, then nodded. Rosh opened the channel again. "Mr. Hudson, carryout your plan. We have not yet given up on recovering your team ourselves, but repairing the Nightingale is priority number one." Before closing the channel the XO added, "If we must leave you here, I _trust_ you will make the best decisions for your team."

"I understand. Thank you, sir. Hudson out."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Did I hear you right?" A cold voice came from behind Hudson, causing him to jump. He looked back and forth. The sun was getting low in sky. The shadow of the Assault Ship was growing longer on the plain. Part of the shadow began to move, and Hudson realized it was not a shadow at all.

"Esco, you scared me. How long have you been standing behind me?" Hudson asked.

"Long enough to hear that Nightingale is going to leave us here."

"I'm sorry, but there really isn't anyway to get back to the ship."

"I cannot stay on this planet Ensign. It is imperative that I am not left here."

"None of us want to stay here, but we have no choice at the moment."

Esco face grew bright red. He grabbed the engineer by the shirt. "You have no idea what is at stake! I cannot stay on this planet! I will be found before my task is done!"

Hudson pushed him away. "There isn't anything I can do!"

Esco took a deep breath and allowed his complexion to turn the same flesh tone as Hudson's. "I apologize."

"It's alright, just calm down. I want to get off this planet as much as you do, but can't see anyway to do that right now."

Esco sat down on a large rock. He seemed tired, deflated. "My mission has endangered your ship and claimed the life of one of its crew."

"Why is the Dominion chasing you? What is your mission?"

"To right a wrong. To do no more harm. I thought I was finally outrunning my enemies, that I would at last be able to complete my task."

"The Dominion doesn't know we're here. You won't be found."

"He will find me." The Nevlian muttered. He then looked Hudson in the eye. "Perhaps I was being too much like a human, incredibly optimistic, and wholly unrealistic. I am walking the road to Hell."

"Then at least your intentions are good." Hudson said.

"Do you really believe that?" Esco asked.

"Something has been eating at you since we met. I don't think doing the wrong thing is ever that hard on a person."

Half a smile crossed Esco's face. "I'll have to tell that to the Devil next time I see him."

------------------------------------------------------------

The sun touched the horizon and looked as if it was sinking into the sea. Its orange reflection stretched out, touching the raft. Jordan put his black uniform over shirt back on. "It's cooling down." He said.

"Yeah." Kizzy replied. That was about all she had said since she told Jordan about Jacob. Her fiancé's death was like a disease for conversations, once it was mentioned the talking just died out. She had only told two people about Jacob, Jordan and Sovek. At least with Sovek she could leave the room. But here in the raft she couldn't runaway and hide.

Jordan grunted and shifted the position of his shirt.

"Your sunburn?" Kizzy asked.

"It's not bad. I should have listened to you." He replied. After a moment he added. "I'm sorry Kizmet."

"You don't need to apologize to me. You just have to live with your sunburn." Kizzy said forcing a brief smile.

"I meant about the other day, when I hollered at you for pushing by me. With all that you were going through, I shouldn't have gotten angry."

"You didn't know."

"I should have known something was wrong. I should have treated like a friend, like you treated me."

"What are you talking about? Every time I see you, I end up asking you for something."

"Not every time." Jordan said. "The day we left the Badlands, just before I went to the shuttlebay to face the Jem'Hadar with Esco, you didn't ask me for anything then. You wished me luck, and that meant more to me than you can know. I was scared that day, but knowing there was someone counting on me… Knowing you were rooting for me, I wasn't so scared after that."

Kizzy wiped a tear from her eye. She wasn't sure if it was one of joy or sorrow. She looked out across the water, only a small part of the sun peaked out above the horizon. "I've never seen a sunset like this, it's beautiful."

"You never watched a sunset back home?" Jordan asked.

"Never like this, on the water. Zosonpgang doesn't have any large bodies of water on the surface. We have plenty of underground lakes, but I've never seen the sunlight dancing on the water."

"I've never seen a more stunning sunset." Jordan agreed, but it was not because of the reflections of light off the water.

Kizzy turned back to Jordan. "It's been a long time. Do you think they'll find us?"

"The sensors are a little out of whack because of the Kelvanite. Give them time." Jordan assured her, but he was not nearly as confident as he sounded.

------------------------------------------------------------

"We have little time to find the lost crewmembers." Sovek said as he approached Marion.

"Excuse me?" Marion said, not prepared for the statement.

Sovek held out a PADD. "I have done a climate study on the planet. If Doctor Kizmet and Ensign Singer did land in the search area Lieutenant Rosh determined, the temperature will drop below human tolerances. It is nearly night in the search area. With the clothing we know them to have been wearing; I estimate both of them will be dead approximately six hours after sunset."

Marion looked over the over the PADD. "Six hours? I'm not sure if that will be enough time."

"There is a related matter I would also like to address, sir. With Doctor Kizmet lost, no one is attending to her patients. With the help you have given me, I am certain I can control my emotions. I am prepared to resume my regular duties."

Marion nodded. "Yes, please attend to Doctor Kizmet's patients, except for Chief Reilly. I will attend to him myself."

Sovek bowed his head slightly. "As you wish."

------------------------------------------------------------

Reilly heard steps near his bed. "Doctor Kizmet?" He asked.

"No, it's Lieutenant Commander Marion, Chief."

"Did the away team find the White? Are we going to start this treatment soon?"

Marion sighed. "I'm afraid I have some bad news, Chief. Doctor Kizmet was in a runabout accident along with the only vial of Ketracel White the Away team found."

"What happened?"

"We're not sure. We received a distress call and we located the stardrive section of the runabout, so we know the command module was successfully ejected but we don't know where it is." Marion leaned against the Chief's bed and stared at the deck. "We can't send the other runabout down to look for them because it's missing a pod or something."

"Probably the antimatter pod."

"That was it. We can't even recover the engineering team, and we know right where they are."

"Then I guess I'm stuck this way." Reilly sighed. The two men were quiet for a moment. Then the Chief suddenly straightened up, he looked more alert, concentrated. "Who was piloting the Runabout?"

"Ensign Singer, terrible loss."

"Flying is the only thing the kid takes seriously. He wouldn't panic in a bind, he would remember his procedures, isolate the antimatter." Reilly said, thinking out loud. "Sir, did the stardrive section explode?"

"I don't know, we're not sure what caused the crash."

"No, I mean when it impacted the ground. Is it pretty much intact, or is there a massive crater where it hit?" For the first time since the Chief found out he was blind, he was seeing things clearly.

"I saw a visual scan. It crashed in a wooded area, knocked over some trees, but there wasn't any crater I could see. Why?"

"Skipper, I think we just found a spare antimatter pod."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Chief Reilly thinks we can use the antimatter pod from the crashed Runabout to power our good one." Marion said. He was standing on the bridge with Rosh and Franks.

"How are we supposed to get the McCoy's pod?" Franks asked.

"We land the Phlox next to the crash site." Rosh said, guessing the rest of the plan. Marion nodded.

"The Phlox's main reactor is offline. We can't land it on a planet, that's completely against procedure." Franks protested. "Regulations clearly state: planet landings without main power are only to be attempted in emergencies."

"Our people need our help. This is an emergency Mr. Franks." Marion said.

"Your concerns will be noted in my log, Lieutenant. Start prepping the Phlox, we will leave as soon as possible." Rosh commanded.

"Mr. Rosh, I only want one of you to go. We are running short on Starfleet personnel. If for some reason the other runabout can't get off the planet, I cannot run this ship alone." Marion interjected.

"Very well, sir." Rosh said. "Mr. Franks, you will go alone."

"But sir…" Franks said meekly. He looked down at his feet. "Sir, the landing zone is in a wooded area on uneven ground. Without main power, there is little room for error. I'm not sure I can do this."

Rosh gave Franks a piercing stare. "You are the best pilot left on this ship, but if you have no confidence in yourself, I will not put the confidence of this ship in you." The XO turned to Marion. "I've been meaning to knock some of the rust off my helmsman skills. I will pilot the runabout."

Franks straightened his poster, and inhaled deeply as if summoning some internal strength. "That will not be necessary. I am the ship's lead helmsman, I can pilot the Phlox."

Rosh grasped Frank's shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. "Yes you can."

------------------------------------------------------------

"The sky looks so empty." Kizzy's voice shook when she spoke. The temperature had dropped quite quickly after nightfall.

"Half of it is because of the moons. The light they reflect from the sun drowns out the dimmer stars." Jordan said, extending one arm and pointing towards two white globes hanging in the sky above them. As soon as Kizzy looked Jordan quickly pulled his arm back to his body, hugging himself for warmth. "And half of it is because of the planet's atmosphere. The gasses bend the light; it makes some stars harder to see."

Kizzy shook her head. "I've become spoiled. The Nightingale is the first ship I've ever been on, besides the shuttle that took me there. I had never been in space before. I remember how incredible the stars looked when I first came onboard. And now I've grown used to it, the stars from anywhere else will never be so brilliant."

"At the Academy we had these training shuttles. I used to love flying them, I'd try and get scheduled for flight time every chance I got. Then, on a training cruise the summer after my third year, I got to sit at the helm of the USS Crazy Horse. It was incredible, being at the controls of something that big. And that was it, that's when I knew what I wanted to do. When I got back to the Academy the training shuttles were never as fun, nothing but the helm of a starship would do." Jordan found himself thinking about the Noble. "You can't go home, isn't that what they say?"

The words hit Kismet like a sack of bricks. "I suppose so."

"Hey, Kizzy." Jordan's voice took on a tone of concern. "Do people even hallucinate when they get too cold?"

"Why? What are you seeing?" Kizzy asked.

"It's the water. I thought it was just reflected moon light, but I don't know. It looks like the tops of the waves are glowing themselves."

Kizzy looked at the sea, Jordan was right. The surface was moving in small waves, and every crest produced a dim blue glow. She reached over the edge of the raft and ran her fore finger through the water. The small wake it produces glowed blue for a moment, then subsided. "It's algae." She said. "It's phosphorescent algae. It gives off light when it's disturbed."

"Ah!" Jordan yelped. Kizzy reeled around to see what was wrong. Jordan had dipped his own fingers into the water to make the algae glow. "That water is really cold." He said, rubbing his hands together and smiling sheepishly.

"It's been a long time Jordan, are they ever going to come for us?"

"I don't know." He admitted. "But I'm sure they are trying everything they can."

------------------------------------------------------------

"That's the last of it, sir." Crewman Doral reported after the last transport of equipment and parts was complete.

"Good job Doral." Hudson said.

"There is one more transport left." Esco said, walking up to Hudson. "I want you to transport me to the Nightingale."

"What?" Hudson said in disbelief. "No, Esco. I won't allow it. There is only a one in ten chance that you would materialize alive."

"I'm willing to take that chance. My mission never had a high probability of success, but if I stop moving I will be found."

"Esco you don't need to do this…"

Esco cut Hudson off. "Yes I do, the very soul of the Federation is at stake."

"No, you don't understand. We're going back to the ship and we don't need to use the transporter."

Hudson and the members of the engineering team standing nearby then witnessed a very rare occurrence; a confused look came over Esco's face. "How?" He asked.

------------------------------------------------------------

Franks felt slightly nauseated. It might have been from how nervous he was, or it might have been because the inertial dampers were operating on partial power, allowing him to feel the some of the g-forces the runabout was experiencing. The rate of descent was critical in the maneuver he was attempting. Without main power the repulser lifts could only tie the planet's gravity, not overcome it. That meant he could not regain any lost altitude. Another major consideration was the Runabout's glide slope, the angle with the ground at which the craft approached the landing zone. Having the slope off several degrees could put him miles away from the McCoy's stardrive section.

The landing zone itself was less than ideal. There were no clearings nearby. He and Lieutenant Rosh had discussed trying to cut a hole in the foliage with the runabout's phasers, but the risk of starting a fire and landing the Phlox in the middle of it was too great. Instead Franks would use the mass of the runabout to level the trees as he landed.

Franks checked his descent rate again, then his glide slope, then he looked out the forward window. He saw the crash sight, and he saw the trees where he wanted to put the Phlox down. He kept scanning in that order, decent rate, glide slop, trees. His heart started pounding fast and his nausea increased as the trees became larger in the window. Descent rate, glide slope, trees. He was coming down a little fast, he slowed his descent. Descent rate, glide slope, trees. The Runabout was coming above the glide slope due to the slower descent. He tried to compensate. Decent rate, glide slope, trees. Trees!

Franks braced himself as the Phlox plowed into the tree tops. Trunks splintered as the weight of the craft crushed the obstacles. The cockpit shuttered and rocked, then everything was still. The Phlox was on the ground, more or less. The cockpit listed to the left. The runabout had come to rest on the slope of a small hill, as well as a good portion of knocked over forest.

"Franks to Nightingale, I'm on the ground." He scanned his instruments. "Phlox is intact and operational. I'm about half a mile from the crash site."

"Good job Mr. Franks. Contact Ensign Hudson once you've reached the McCoy, he'll talk you through recovering the antimatter pod."

------------------------------------------------------------

Kizzy looked at Jordan. Even though it was slightly sunburned, his skin was looking noticeably pale. Both of them were shivering, it was obvious hypothermia would set in soon. "I never thought it would end up like this." Kizzy said.

"You have to hang on Kizmet. If there is a way, they'll come for us." Jordan hoped he was right.

"I don't just mean being here, in this raft. Being on the Nightingale, I thought it would be different. I thought it would be more like a regular hospital. I never thought we'd get so close to the war."

"I never thought I'd be so far from it. I didn't think I'd end up on a hospital ship, I always thought I'd be assigned to a ship on the frontlines, on a ship where my piloting skills would make a difference in battle. I was so jealous of all those convoys we took on patients from. I hated watching them warp away, leaving me behind."

"The last convoy that we met, that was the last time I saw Jacob."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up any painful memories."

"It's alright. I like thinking about that day, but he had to leave, go off and fight. I volunteered to serve on the Nightingale because I knew I would have to leave home eventually to be with him. And I thought that it would some how keep us closer to each other. I'm so glad I got to see Jacob one last time, but it was so hard watching him leave. It was like the best day and the worst day at the same time. Does that make any sense?"

"I know exactly how you feel. That day I had never felt more close to the only good thing about Nightingale, but that's also the day I lost it."

"That same day? What did you loose?"

Jordan shifted uncomfortably, wishing he hadn't said anything.

"What is it Jordan?" Kizzy asked.

"You." He said. "I thought you wanted to ride on the Runabout that day because of me. When I met Jacob, I… I don't know, I knew it wasn't to be. So I guess I started pushing you away."

"I'm sorry Jordan. I didn't mean to lead you on. I should have told you I was engaged."

"You didn't know."

"I suspected." She said quietly. It was then quiet again save for the lapping sound of the water against the raft.

Although they only sat on opposite sides of the raft, Jordan felt as if they were light years apart. He feared he had just thrown away the friendship he and Kizmet had just repaired.

"You know." Kizzy said after a long silence. "Its pretty cold, we should probably huddle together. Conserve our body heat."

"OK." Jordan replied. They moved towards each other. Kizzy put her arms around Jordan's waist and pressed her body against his. Jordan hesitantly put his arms around Kizmet. He had wanted to embrace her so many times, but he never pictured it like this.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Any news?" Marion asked entering the bridge.

"Mr. Franks has installed the antimatter pod and he is currently picking up the engineering team. Mr. Hudson says the Phlox will need a new coat of paint." Rosh reported.

"How long will it take them to search the crash area?" Marion asked.

"Approximately ten hours."

"Our most hopeful medical estimates give Doctor Kizmet and Ensign Singer three hours."

------------------------------------------------------------

Kizzy felt Jordan shift in her arms. "Is your sunburn bothering you?"

"It's really not that bad." He said. "But I do wish I had a tan like yours. I wouldn't have to worry about getting burned."

"Maybe." Kizzy said softly.

"If they find us, and we make it back to the Federation, are you going to stay onboard Nightingale, or will you go home?"

"It's been months since I left. I can't go home."

"What's keeping you?" Jordan asked.

"On Zosonpgang it's illegal to go out into the sun unsupervised until you're sixteen."

"Why not?"

"Because it takes sixteen years of controlled exposure to our sun to build up a natural resistance to its effects. It only takes a few months to loose that resistance. My tan has faded too much, skin won't protect me anymore. I gave that up for Jacob. I lost everything. I'm alone."

Jordan pulled Kizzy as close to him as he could. "You're not alone."

Kizzy held on to Jordan as if he was the only thing keep her afloat. They had shared their secrets with a recklessness that only those uncertain of their survival possess. Though she never had been in so much danger, she felt safe as that night, the night stranded at sea, the night swimming with the things they had always left unsaid, the night she shared her burden.

Jordan grimiest slight shifted in her arms again. "Sorry, it feels like something is poking me, I think. I'm pretty numb."

Kizzy reached into her cold, damp pocket and pulled out a vial. "It's the Ketracel White."

"It's glowing." Jordan said. There were splotches of bright blue light on the capped end of the vial.

"It's the algae." Kizzy said. "Ketracel enhances most bio-functions. That's why the algae is glowing so brightly."

"Kizzy, I have an idea. Give me the vial."

She thought of Chief Reilly, the white in the vial was his only hope for regaining his natural sight. She put the vial in Jordan's hand with some reluctance. Jordan took the vial and pulled of the cap. He braced himself for the shock of the cold and then dunked the vial into the water. He shook it around to get as much of the drug out as possible. It diffuse into the water quickly, soon a brilliant, blue, glowing cloud was growing off one side of the raft. Jordan pulled his hand out of the water. It was completely numb and glowing as bright as the water.

"Sorry Chief." Kizzy said.

------------------------------------------------------------

"It's been hours and there is still no sign of them." Franks said as he flew the Phlox in a search pattern over the crash area.

"Then we'll keep searching." Hudson replied from the copilot seat.

"I don't think were going to find them." Franks said. "Not alive anyway."

"Then we'll search until we find their bodies." Hudson said. "Damnit!" He cursed, hitting his console. "The sensors are nearly useless, there must be kelvanite dissolved in the water."

"What's that?" Franks asked, pointing out the forward window.

Hudson looked up. "It's a light." He said. "It's a light on an uninhabited planet, it has to be them!"

The Phlox arrived at the light quickly. Franks brought the runabout into a hover a hundred feet above the raft. Close enough to trust Jordan and Kizzy's lives to the transporters. The two materialized on the deck of the cockpit, unconscious and embracing each other. Hudson covered them in a large blanket and began rubbing them, trying to warm them up.

"Franks to Nightingale, we found them. Have a medical team standing by." The helmsman called over the comm. as he turned the runabout spaceward.

Jordan opened his eyes, looked around and smiled. "Hey JG." He said weakly. "I thought flying Runabouts was my job, you need me to take over the helm?'

"Don't worry about it Ensign, you can take my next bridge watch." Franks replied with an uncharacteristic good humor.

"Aye, aye, sir." Jordan said to his superior, with a respectful tone for the first time.

Kizzy stirred a little before raising her head. "Where am I?" She asked.

"With friends." Jordan answered.


	8. Truth, Deceit, and the Right Thing to Do

**Chapter 8: Truth, Deceit, and the Right Thing to Do**

Jordan woke up quick, as if from a nightmare. What he was met with was much worse. He was laying on a platform at a steep inclined, with his hands shackled above his head. In front of him was something more horrible than any dream. Covered in leathery grey scales, standing six and a half feet tall with a rifle at port arms, the First stood before the Starfleet Ensign.

Jordan struggled against his restraints. "I saw you die!"

The imposing Jem'Hadar butted the stock of hit rifle into the human's stomach. Jordan would have fallen on the deck from the blow, but he was suspended by his wrists, cuffed to the platform. The grey scales around the First's mouth contorted into a sneer.

"Actually Ensign Singer," a new voice said, "the Jem'Hadar you saw die was from the same Genome as this soldier. But like his deceased clone, this one also holds the rank of First." The man spoke slow and deliberately, as if uninterested by all that occurred around him. The stare from his faded blue eyes was hollow, but piercing, as if he was consumed by a single purpose, driven to a single end. The high rising ears and the flamboyant tuft of black hair gave away the man's species. He was Vorta, one of the genetically engineered diplomats and generals of the Dominion. "My name is Yelgrun. I have been perusing your ship for sometime. I must commend your piloting skills. You presented most unexpected difficulties."

"I can't take all the credit. Your Jem'Hadar are pretty lousy at the helm." Jordan's words prompted the First to delivery another blow to the Ensign's already tender stomach.

Yelgrun sighed. "I have interrogated my fair share of Starfleet junior officers. Trust me when I tell you it will not take long to rid you of your arrogant defiance. The methods employed are quite unpleasant. It would be much easier on both of use if you cooperated." The Vorta stepped closer to Jordan. "Now, tell me everything you recall about the Nevlian going by the name of Esco. And tell me, where is the canister?"

Jordan spit in the Vorta's face. Yelgrun wiped his face with his hand and turned to the First and nodded. This time the stock of the rifle came down on Jordan's head. The world went black.

------------------------------------------------------------

Clark Franks stood up groggily. He was in a spacious room near a bench built into the wall. Three of the four walls had a series of columns arranged in a square horseshoe. The only door in the room was on the fourth wall. A few feet in front of the door there was a freestanding control console. The display on the console was unmistakably Federation in origin, although Nightingale had no rooms or spaces that resembled this one.

The room was crowded, part of it at least. The space between the walls and columns teemed with people Franks recognized as Nightingale's medical staff and engineering technicians, but the rest of the room was empty.

Franks approached one of the columns. It was square, and the sides paralleling the near wall were lighted from the deck to the overhead. All of a sudden the air began to glow and he felt a tingling sensation that caused him to jump back. "Force field." He muttered to himself. He was in a cell, a Federation cell.

------------------------------------------------------------

Hudson stared at Yelgrun as coldly as he could, trying to compress the fear he felt coursing through his body into a ball in the pit of his stomach. "You're wasting your time, I'm not telling you anything."

The interrogator easily detected the fear the ensign was futilely trying to hide. "You have already told me so much." Yelgrun held up a PADD. "Your engineering logs. Impressive, you repaired your vessel using parts from a Dominion vessel, you altered your power signature to match that of a Jem'Hadar Assault ship, and my personal favorite, you calibrated your sensors to better detect trilithium." Yelgrun looked up from the PADD. "You'll be glad to know that all Dominion ships have corrected the flaw in their warp system. Our ships no longer vent trilithium and they can no longer be tracked by Starfleet, and all thanks to you, Ensign."

Hudson shrank a bit at the realization his logs had given up oun of the Federation's few advantages in a war they were loosing. Seeing the pleased looked on Yelgrun's face, Hudson steeled himself again.

"As renowned as the ingenuity of Starfleet engineers is, I believe you had help. Tell me everything you discussed with Esco."

"He didn't tell me anything." Hudson said.

"I doubt that, Humans by their nature are quite _chatty_ as you say. What did Esco tell you?"

Hudson said nothing.

"I will get my answers Mr. Hudson." Yelgrun said. "Perhaps I should press Mr. Singer for more information."

"He doesn't know anything. He only even met Esco once."

"I know, he spoke with him in the shuttle bay when you were leaving the Badlands. Perhaps my euphemism did not convey what I intended. I will kill Ensign Singer if you do not tell me what I want to know."

All of Hudson's attempts to hide his fear broke down. His terror could be seen plainly by the expression on his face.

"I'm giving you a rare opportunity Ensign Hudson. I am giving you a second chance, a chance to save the life of one of your crewmates." Yelgrun's voice was calm, almost understanding. "Or will you choose to let Mr. Singer die, like you let Crewman Adkins die?"

All the information Yelgrun wanted to know begged to pass Hudson's lips. The desire to save his friend was overwhelming, and the engineer didn't know if he had the strength to resist.

------------------------------------------------------------

Franks was walking around the edge of the cell. Most of his fellow prisoners were either asleep or groggily waking up, wondering where they were and how they had gotten there.

"Lieutenant Franks." Someone called. It was a young man in engineering coveralls.

"Crewman?" Franks asked as he turned to face the young man.

"Doral, sir. Am I glad to see you!"

"What's happened, Doral? Where are we?"

"I was hoping you would know, sir. You're the only officer I've seen."

"You haven't seen anyone else from the senior staff?"

"I saw the Chief on the other side of the cell, but he was asleep. I wasn't about to wake a sleeping Chief." Doral forced a chuckle at his own joke.

Franks was feeling very alone. Doral was expecting something from him, something that Franks doubted he had. "Why don't you try to find out who is here, and who is missing. I'll go talk to Chief Reilly." He finally said.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Where is the logic in resisting me Doctor Sovek?" Yelgrun asked. "Do Vulcans not value their lives?"

"You are at war with my sovereignty. I can only assume that any answers I provide to you would be used against the Federation. Vulcans hold life in the highest regard, but it would be illogical to save my own by giving you information that could assist you in killing my countrymen." Hanging on the Dominion interrogation table left the Vulcan in a less than dignified position than he was accustom too, but his steady words signaled no discomfort.

"I have to admit I am somewhat surprised at your answer. I read a log from Nightingale's executive officer; it says you suggested the Nightingale surrender to the Dominion."

"My logic was flawed in that instance."

"A rare occurrence in Vulcans."

"However infrequent an occurrence none the less."

"Perhaps your logic is flawed now too. You have not yet heard my questions. If you did you would realize the information I seek is about one man, the Nevlain Esco. What you tell me will not hurt your fellow Federation citizens."

"It will be used to hurt one."

"You believe Esco is a Federation citizen? Nothing could be farther from the truth. He is from the Gamma quadrant. His people's home world is one of the core planets of the Dominion."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Who's there?" The Chief asked. "I can hear you breathing."

Franks inhaled a bit more sharply, not expecting the chief to respond. "It's me, Chief. I thought you were asleep."

"Franks? I'm not asleep. Just got my eyes closed, don't have much used for leaving 'em open." The Chief sat up. His eyelids opened halfway and his pupils stared blankly ahead. "So, who rescued us?"

"You think we were rescued?" Franks asked.

"Listen to the power pulsing through the EPS conduits. We're on a Federation ship, but it isn't Nightingale, sounds a lot more powerful."

Franks sat down on the bench next to Reilly. "We haven't been rescued Chief, we're in a cell. I don't know how we got here, I don't know where here is, and the rest of the senior staff doesn't seem to be here."

"Well that doesn't make sense." The Chief muttered.

"Sir!" Doral called running up to the two of them. His report came spilling out of his mouth in one breath. "I haven't found anymore officers, the engineering team is all accounted for, the nurses are all here, but two doctors are missing, and only the fully recovered patients are here as far as we can tell."

"Which doctors?" Reilly asked.

"Doctor Kizmet and Doctor, uh…. The Vulcan doctor." Doral said.

"Sovek and Kizmet, what do they have to do with any of this?" Franks asked.

"Maybe they were lucky enough to escape, or unlucky enough to get themselves killed." Reilly said.

"What are we going to do, sir?" Doral asked Franks.

Franks looked back in bewilderment. _Me?_ He thought. "Chief?" He asked turning to Reilly.

"We'll find you if we need you Doral, good work." Reilly said to the crewman. He listened as Doral's footsteps became more distant before turning back to Franks. "Listen Lieutenant, you are in charge here. You're the ranking officer and more people than Doral are going to be looking to you for leadership."

"I don't know what to do Chief. I don't know what to tell them." Franks admitted.

The Chief sighed. "You think I can tell you? I'm a blind old fool. You're an officer, you signed on for this. You wanted command, well this is it."

Just then every face in the cell turned in the same direction as the door behind the console swooshed open. A man in an all black uniform stepped through. Some of the prisoners hollered at the man, demanding to know what was happening. Others hit their fists against the force fields, but most just stared. The man ignored the actions of the prisoners. He walked to the console and spoke over the other voices. "Lieutenant Junior Grade Clark Franks, please step forward."

------------------------------------------------------------

"This should be easy. She is a civilian, she has no formal resistance training, and she is an intellectual. The profile on such people indicates that the threat on pain is actually more effective than the application of pain." Yelgrun explained to the Jem'Hadar guard while reviewing the information on the PADD. He then turned to his subject. "Threat or application, I can not make up my mind Doctor Kizmet. I think we will try both methods, and see which is more effective."

Kizzy's heart beat faster and faster as Yelgrun walked towards her. The Vorta circled around to the back of the interrogation table. He pressed a control and a brace restrained Kizmet's head, holding it firmly against the table forcing her to stare at straight ahead. Two probes then rose from beneath the table. The tips glowed red with some sort of energy as they settled in on either side of her head approximately ten centimeters away, centered on her temples.

"I've been through all the logs and reports from your ship, but I still have some unanswered questions." Yelgrun said.

"I don't know anything, I'm just a doctor." Kizzy pleaded.

Yelgrun pressed a control and the probes clicked a centimeter closer. "Are you familiar with Klingon pain sticks? They are a ceremonial staff used in their barbaric rituals. They emit a special type of energy that causes the neurons that sense pain to fire. The probes I am moving towards your temples emit that same energy, but where the Klingon pain sticks only cause pain in a localized area, these probes will fire every pain receptor in your body. They will cause you to feel the maximum amount of pain your body is capable of." There was no threat in Yelgrun's voice. The description was cold and clinical. "You were the first member of the Nightingale's crew to make contact with Esco. You saved his life. Surely you would have noticed if he had anything with him. Where is the canister?"

Kizzy was beginning to hyperventilate. She didn't know how she had been captured, and she hoped she was the only one. She prayed he hadn't been captured. "I don't know anything about a canister."

"Are you sure?" Yelgrun asked, clicking the probes closer. "Think very hard."

------------------------------------------------------------

Franks had been led to a small room and left sitting alone at a table. There were no computer consoles or even door controls inside the room. The chamber was clearly designed for interrogations. Franks wasn't sure how long he had been waiting when the door finally hissed open. The man that entered had neatly comb brown hair and wore the same black uniform as the guard that had taken him from the cell. The man sat down on the other side of the table. He reviewed the information on a PADD he had with him before setting it down and looking at Franks.

"Clark Franks, Lieutenant Junior Grade, graduated in the top third of your Academy class, served at Starfleet Personnel Command, then assigned to the Nightingale as lead helmsman and second officer." The man said.

"That's all right, but I missed your name." Franks said.

"I didn't give it." The man replied. "I am Starfleet Intelligence's Deputy Director of Internal Affairs, my title should suffice."

"Sir, is there any chance of finding out what this is all about?" Franks asked.

"I'm the one asking questions here Lieutenant." The Director snapped. "If you know what's good for your career you will be completely forth coming."

Franks got the hint and did not respond.

"Your ship treated a patient named Esco. What do you know about him?" The Director asked.

"We picked him up on MN-1375. He's a Nevlian, he can change the color of his skin and spit some sort stomach acid. He's an intelligence agent. The Dominion is chasing him, but he wouldn't tell us why." Franks thought for a moment. "That's all I know."

"What about the canister? Esco had a canister with him. What happened to it?"

"I don't know anything about a canister. Nobody mentioned it."

"Do you know where the rest of Nightingale's senior staff is?"

"No, sir. I was on Nightingale, we had completed repairs and were heading back to Federation space. Then I woke up here, I don't know what happened."

The Director studied Franks. "I believe you." He finally said. "Now tell me truthfully, is there any question in your mind about the loyalty of your fellow officers on Nightingale?"

"I don't understand. Loyalty to what, Starfleet?" Franks asked.

The Director leaned forward and talked softly. "Esco is not, nor ever has been a Starfleet intelligence agent. He is working for the Dominion. He has created a biological weapon. His mission is to release it at the heart of the Federation."

"What does that have to with the loyalty of Nightingale's crew? Why would you lock us in a cell for something Esco did?" Franks asked.

"Ten hours ago a Dominion Battleship briefly rendezvoused with the Nightingale. By the time we arrived the Battleship was gone, we found everyone on your ship unconscious, key personnel were missing, along with Esco, and there was no sign of a struggle."

"What are you saying? You don't think that…"

"That the command crew of USS Nightingale has defected to the Dominion?" The Director finished the thought. "I'm not sure. Until we find out I must consider everyone from your ship a security risk."

"I see." Franks said meekly. His head was spinning with the new information.

"Thank you for your cooperation Mr. Franks, it will go far towards clearing all this up." As the Director spoke the guard that had brought Franks to the interrogation room reappeared. Franks stood and turned towards the door, but the Director stopped him. "One more thing Mr. Franks, what happened to Chief Reilly?"

"The console he was at exploded when the first time the battleship attacked us." He said no more, he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"My condolences." The Director said. He then nodded for the guard to take Franks away. After the door hissed shut the Director pulled out a small comm. unit and spoke into it. "We've obtained all the information we will through these methods, begin interrogation level two."

------------------------------------------------------------

The probes clicked closer to Kizmet's temples. "I already told you, he's got dynamic pigmentation, he has three stomachs, he was a biochemist, he has some secret he won't share."

"Are you sure you don't know anything else?" Yelgrun asked clicking the probes even closer.

Kizzy could barely talk hear she was breathing in out so quickly. She could feel the heat of the ends of the probes, she searched her mind for anything that might stop them from coming any closer. "He can projectile vomit on command, he eats wood, I don't know anything else." She cried.

"He eats wood?" Yelgrun asked. "How odd."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Move faster." The first punctuated his command by striking Jordan in the back of the head with the butt of his rifle. The blow sent Jordan reeling forward onto the deck of the corridor. "Get up."

Jordan stood up awkwardly, the binders holding his wrists together made it hard to pick himself up off the floor and his body throbbed from the painful beatings he had endured. He stood up in front of a door. Sensing his presence, it swooshed open. He couldn't believe what he saw. "Kizzy!" He yelled.

"Jordan, help me!" She screamed from the interrogation table.

"Get him out of here!" Yelgrun commanded the First.

The First pushed Jordan on and the door hissed shut. Jordan took a few more steps then he turned suddenly. He threw his shoulder into the First and reached for the Jem'Hadar's waist with his bound hands. The First did not loose and inch of ground. As Jordan flew towards him the First drew back his right arm and met Jordan's face with a clenched fist. Jordan's body twisted and fell forward back onto the ground.

"Try that again and I will shoot you." The First promised.

Jordan rolled over and leveled a disruptor pistol at the Jem'Hadar. "Not if I shoot you first." He said.

Before the First could look to his hip to find his side arm holster empty, Jordan fired. The massive frame of the soldier fell back onto the deck.

Jordan stepped over the dead body, and busted through the door he had seen Kizzy behind. He fired and hit the Jem'Hadar in the room before the guard even had a chance to raise his rifle. He then turned to Yelgrun and shot the gaping Vorta in the head.

"Jordan!" Kizzy exclaimed. Jordan moved towards the interrogation table. He set the pistol down, shut off the probes, and released the restraints. Kizzy jumped up and hugged him. "Thank god. I thought maybe… I mean, I couldn't stand to loose… Not again." She held him tighter sobbed into his shoulder.

For a moment Jordan forgot that they were still in the belly of a Dominion warship. "It's alright, you're not alone." He tried to hug her back and realized his wrists were still locked together. He remembered where they were.

He told Kizzy to pick the pistol up off the floor. She released Jordan from her embrace and did as he said. She pressed the muzzle of the disruptor pistol to the binders around Jordan's wrists. She squeezed the trigger and a blue beam lanced through the binders and into the floor. The restraints fell away. Jordan rubbed his wrists then picked up the assault rifle the Jem'Hadar corpse was holding. He checked the hall to make sure it was empty.

"We're getting out of here." He said.

------------------------------------------------------------

Hudson sat alone in a Dominion cell. He couldn't believe what he had done, the betrayal he had committed. His thoughts wondered back to a conversation he had had with Esco. _In the end, everyone gets hurt_, Esco had said, _the dilemma that is at the forefront of my mind is the right thing to do in such times_. Hudson wondered if he had done the right thing, or if he had abandoned one of the trusts he had held in the highest regard. And he wondered what was making that noise.

Hudson stood up, the engineer's obsession for mechanical order taking over. It was a creek or a rattle. Something was moving that wasn't supposed to. The interior of the cell was smooth. There was the bench that also served as a bed, but every surface was perfectly smooth, machined to fit precisely in its place. In one corner of the small room, the rattle and creek was clearly louder. He looked up to see an air vet. He stepped up on the bench and reached up towards the vent. He had to stand on his toes. The tip of his finger touched the corner of the vent, a shock coursed through his body, and he found himself lying on the floor with completely soar and with a burned finger tip. However, he was sure about one thing, the grate over the vent had moved.

Hudson stepped up onto the bench again. He braced himself, and then leapt for the vent. His fingers looped through the grate. The shock was much more intense this time. He wasn't sure how long he was out, but when he came to there was a grate in his hands and a hole in the ceiling.

With the grate gone the circuit was broken. The third time Hudson leapt for the vent he caught the edge and pulled himself up. With no frame of reference as to where he was, Hudson picked a direction and began crawling on his belly.

------------------------------------------------------------

"His condolences?" Reilly didn't understand it. "Did he think I was dead?"

"I'm not sure." Franks admitted. "I was distracted. I couldn't stop thinking about what the Director had told me about Esco, about the others."

"It doesn't make sense, Lieutenant. Why would he ask you about me and no one else? Why wouldn't he assume I defected with the rest of the command staff?"

"You really think they defected, chief?"

"Hell no, how many defectors do you know that destroy three Jem'Hadar assault ships? If they did go aboard that Dominion ship it wasn't of their own accord."

Franks stood up and paced in frustration. "But why? Why take them?"

The Chief looked back through all they had been through since MN-1375. One his last memories of sight struck him: everyone in the command staff, save Franks, and two doctors standing in Nightingale's sickbay arguing over what to do with an injure Jem'Hadar soldier. He also remembered seeing one fully recovered patient with them. "Esco." Reilly muttered.

Franks stopped his pacing. "What was that chief?"

"Have you ever met Esco? Ever talked with him?" Reilly asked.

Franks sat back down on the bench and thought. "No, everything I know about him comes from filing the ship's official reports."

Reilly nodded. "I know for a fact that everyone taken has met him."

"Then why weren't you taken?" Franks wondered.

"I don't know, sir. Maybe because I'm a patient, maybe they just didn't have enough time to find me."

------------------------------------------------------------

Crawling through the cramp ventilation shaft Hudson was reminded of a popular joke at Starfleet's Advanced Engineering School, _the Federation's best engineers are less than 5'9"_. There were a surprisingly high number of short instructors at the school. It was rumored that a former student quantified the phenomenon, as engineers often do, by calculating the mean height of Starfleet engineers holding the rank of lieutenant commander of above. The story goes that the average was slightly below five feet nine inches, and it was found that the majority personnel to transfer out of engineering upon reaching the rank were above the mean. While no specific reason was ever determined, every engineer since their first time in a Jefferies tube, or a ventilation shaft like Hudson, knew exactly why the job was better suited for shorter people.

At present it was not the size of the space that made Hudson uncomfortable. His apprehension came from that space being inside an enemy ship. He continued crawling along on his belly. He looked through a vent and saw an empty corridor. He was about open the vent until he heard something. It was a voice. He recognized it. He carefully inched forward, trying to minimize the noise he made. He rounded a ninety degree bend in the shaft. There was another vent, and he could hear the voice much clearer.

"What have you done with my patients, with my ship?" The voice asked. Hudson peaked thought the grating. It was Lieutenant Commander Marion.

Then another voice came, one that sent chills down the Ensign's spine. "Please Doctor, lets try to stay on topic, where is the canister?" The low calm voice came from Yelgrun.

Hudson thought back to his own interrogation, and his betrayal. Seeing another vent slightly further down the shaft, Hudson quietly moved on.

"I don't know about a canister. Where is my medical staff? What have you done with my crew?" Hudson heard Marion saying as he moved on.

Peering through the next vent Hudson saw another cell. There was a white haired man sitting in the middle of the cell looking down at the floor. The engineer might not have known who it was if it were not for the two blue antennas that poking through the white hair. "Lieutenant Rosh." Hudson called quietly to him.

The Andorian jumped to his feet and looked around. Hudson could see the blue skin of his superior's face had been purpled with bruised. "Ensign Hudson?" Rosh was looking back and forth from empty wall to empty wall.

"Up here, in the vent." Hudson said.

"Are you all right?" Rosh asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Have you seen anyone else from the Nightingale?"

"The CO is one room over being interrogated."

"Can you get these doors open?"

"I passed a vent to the corridor; I can open tem from there."

Rosh nodded. "Excellent, wait until Yelgrun and the guards leave Commander Marion's cell, then drop down to the corridor and let us out."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Where are we going?" Kizzy asked as they continued down the corridor.

"The shuttle bay." Jordan said.

"Are you sure you know where it is?"

"No idea." Jordan said while motioning for her to get against the bulkhead. Jordan cautiously peeked around the corner. He jerked his head back as he saw a Jem'Hadar soldier walking down the passageway. "One's coming." He whispered.

"Who's there?" The Jem'Hadar called.

Took a deep breath and looke at Kizmet.

"No." She mouthed, knowing instantly what he was planning.

Jordan raised the rifle so he was staring down the bore. He spun around the corner and aimed his weapon at the Jem'Hadar, who was now laying motionless, face down on the deck.

"Ensign Singer, what are you doing here?" Esco seemed to materialize out of thin air as his skin changed from the color of the corridor to flesh tones.

------------------------------------------------------------

In the Federation cell it seemed that everywhere Franks looked someone was just looking away. "It's weird Chief, I get the feeling everyone is staring at me."

"They are." Reilly said. "The engineering techs all know who you are. The doctors have seen you with Lieutenant Rosh and the skipper around the ship. They're all waiting for you."

"To do what?" Franks asked.

"Anything. With skip and the XO gone, like it or not, you are commanding officer, USS Nightingale. These people, they're your crew, they're locked in a cell, and they're waiting for you to tell them what to do." Reilly answered.

Franks stood up and slowly paced across the cell. He crossed his arms and stared at the ground. He felt eyes boring into him. He looked up and immediately pupils scattered, but kept peaking back at him. He recognized the owner of one pair of eyes that kept stealing glances at him. "Crewman Doral." He called.

Doral snapped straight and hurried up to Franks. "Yes, sir."

"Do you think you and the engineering technicians could figure out a way to shut down these force fields?"

Doral smiled. "We can sure try, sir."

------------------------------------------------------------

Hudson's hand hovered above the door control. He thought back to sickbay days ago. He remembered how he couldn't bring himself to vent the atmosphere and kill his roommate. He had chosen Jordan over the ship. Luckily Rosh had been there to save them all. He thought back to his interrogation by Yelgrun, his great betrayal. Could Rosh save him again? Hudson pressed the control.

The Andorian on the other side was obviously beaten severely, but he moved as if nothing had happened. "Where is Lieutenant Commander Marion?" Rosh asked.

"Next door, sir." Hudson replied. "I wanted to speak with you first, sir."

Rosh studied Hudson for a moment. "Quickly."

Hudson drew a deep breath. He had to confess. "When I was being interrogated, Yelgrun, the Vorta, he said he would kill Ensign Singer if I didn't talk."

"Our main concern is escape. The faster we can return to Federation space and be debriefed, the less damaging any information you shared will be." Rosh said curtly, emphasizing the conversation was over.

Hudson shook his head and looked at the ground. "You don't understand, sir. I let Jordan die."

Rosh grabbed Hudson by the shoulders, and locked eyes with the engineer. "Listen to me. You did not kill Ensign Singer, the Dominion did. Do you understand? It's not your fault."

Hudson nodded. It did make it easier, hearing Rosh's words.

"Now, let's go get Commander Marion." Rosh left no doubt that it was an order.

------------------------------------------------------------

"We were looking for the shuttle bay." Kizmet told Esco. The Nevlian had led her and Jordan into a nearby room. It was very large, housing a series of tanks, and it was flavored with an odd smell.

A small smile crossed Esco's face. "You're pretty far from there. You've managed to find waster reclamation." He said, pointing to a small sign printed in Dominionese.

Jordan's face reddened a bit. "What is all this about a canister?" He asked, changing the subject.

"Excuse me?" All the humor left Esco's face.

"They kept asking me about that too." Kizzy said.

"And The First said something about a canister. When I was with you in Nightingale's shuttle bay back in the Badlands." Jordan added.

Esco felt himself locking up like a reflex to interrogation. But when he looked at the town young humans, he saw no malice in their faces, just confusion and fear of a situation he was the cause of. Esco did not want to cause anymore pain to the Federation or its citizens. He seemed to relax as if he was dropping a large weight. He looked at the humans and spoke. "A horrible weapon has been created, one that will destroy the very soul of the Federation. A biological weapon designed to eradicate a race."

"That's what's in the canister." Kizzy gasped.

"No! Not the disease, the cure." Esco explained. "I have created a cure."

"Where is it now?" Jordan asked.

Esco was quiet for a moment. "The canister," he finally said, "I left it on MN-1375."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Something just picked up." Reilly muttered.

"What was that Chief?" Franks asked. He had been listening to Doral explain how if they could get someone to drop the force field, just for a second, it would be easy to keep it from coming up again. But for that they needed a communicator, and everyone's communicators had been confiscated while they were knocked out.

"Can't you hear that? The EPS conduits, the power just kicked up something fierce. Only two things would require that much power. Either they just powered up weapons, or this ship has gone to warp." Reilly said.

Franks listened for a moment, but was unable to hear any difference in the ambient noise. He was about to ask exactly what he was supposed to be hearing, but a hand gruffly grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.

Standing before Franks was an imposing figure. The man was tall and lean. He looked hard, like all weakness had been sheered off his body. His face had the uneven flesh of a poorly healed burn creeping up the right side of his face from his neck to just below his cheek bone. "You're Franks?" It hardly sounded like a question. It was more like the man was commanding the young officer to assume the name. "You're the one they came for?"

Franks had an overwhelming urge to step backwards, and he probably would have if he wasn't already so close to the wall. "Uh… um, yeah." He stammered. "I'm afraid I don't know who you are."

"Major Riggs." He barked. He then snapped his head to the right and stared down the engineering crewman standing next to him. Doral had been gawking at the Major's burn. "Close shave with a disruptor bolt from a Jem'Hadar rifle." Riggs said, running his fingers over the scar.

"I apologize, sir. I didn't realize your rank." Franks motioned to the two small circular pips on his collar, one gold and one black glass, indicating he held the rank of Lieutenant Junior Grade. The three pips that should have been on the Major's collar, two gold and one black glass, were missing.

"I don't wear uniform devices. On a clear day, light reflecting off a comm. badge or rank insignia can be seen for miles. Those pips make and especially good targets for Jem'Hadar to aim for." Major Riggs cocked his head slightly to the left exposing his deformed patch of skin to the junior officer. "I learned that the hard way."

"Is there anything I can help you with, Major?" Franks asked.

"Why did they take you? What did you talk about?"

Franks briefly recounted his conversation with the Director, making sure to end each sentence in _Major_ or _sir_.

"They'll be back in here eventually. And I think they'll want to talk to you again." Riggs said. "I found a couple of my boys around here. When they come to get you again, we'll be ready to make our move."

"Your move, sir?" Franks asked.

"When the guard lets you out we're going to rush him. You have a better idea?" The tone of the question did not ask for a response.

"Lieutenant, what about bringing down force fields?" Doral asked Franks.

"The decision has been made, crewman!" Riggs snapped. He then shot a piercing glance at Franks. Franks said nothing; he just sat down on the bench next to the Chief. Riggs turned to collect his men.

"I guess that's it. Pressure is off you, the crew can look to Riggs for leadership." The Chief said to Franks under his breath.

Franks looked around the cell. The crew had obviously noticed the confrontation, or lack of it. They moved out of Riggs' way and looked towards Franks as the Major passed. Franks recognized the doctors and nurses and technicians. He saw Doral. The crewman was looking helplessly back at him. Franks stood and inhaled deeply. "Major." He called.

Riggs stopped and turned.

"Have you been medically cleared for duty?" Franks asked.

Riggs covered the ground between himself and the junior officer at a surprising pace. "What?"

"You were a patient on the Nightingale, sir. Have you been medically cleared for duty?"

"What the hell are you doing _Lieutenant Junior Grade_? Look at where we are! We're in a cell, put here by our own government, and you are making a power play!"

"Sir, these people are _my_ crew. I cannot in good conscience turn over their welfare to an officer who has been taken off of active duty for medical reasons." Franks felt like his knees were about to buckle, but he stood his ground and stared straight back at the Major.

"And what do you suggest we do?" Riggs asked.

"Crewman Doral has a plan to disable the force fields." Franks motioned towards the technical. Doral was unsuccessfully trying to hide an ear to ear grin.

"And then?" Riggs was actually asking a question.

"Well…" Franks said. "Then you and your men rush the guard."

Riggs didn't smile, but his grimace was momentarily gone. "Can I do anything else to help?"

"Not now, unless you happen to have a communicator." Franks couldn't believe he had just stared down a Major and was now making a joke.

Riggs reached into his pocket and pulled out a comm. badge. "Doesn't work, there's some sort of dampening field around the cell." He said holding out the silver and gold badge. Doral stepped forward and took the device. Both Franks and the Crewman stared at the Major a bit perplexed. "I told you I don't wear uniform devices. I guess our captors forgot to check our pockets."

------------------------------------------------------------

"They certainly did a number on you." Marion said. Rosh grunted as his superior pressed on his ribs. "Does it hurt when you inhale?"

"Sir, we really must get moving." Rosh protested.

"Don't be proud. I'm a doctor and I want to know if you are going to aggravate an injury in our flight that I will have to deal with."

The Andorian acquiesced. "Whenever I move I feel discomfort where I was hit."

"Good. You have some nice contusions, but nothing terribly serious." Marion took his hands off the XO and moved past him towards the door of the cell. He turned back and looked quizzically at Rosh. "Aren't you coming? I thought we had to get moving."

The passageway outside Marion's cell was at the corner of a T-intersection of corridors. Rosh checked each direction then turned to Hudson. "Which way did Yelgrun go?"

"To the left." Hudson pointed down one corridors of the T.

"Then we're going right." Rosh said.

"Wait." Marion said. The two other officers stopped. "What's down the hall behind us?"

"Looks like more cells, sir." Hudson said.

"It is unlikely that there is an avenue for escape in that direction, and Jem'Hadar guards could very well be patrolling those passageways." Rosh said.

"But there may be more prisoners from the Nightingale down there. Don't we own it to them to at least take a look?" Marion asked.

"Aye, sir." Rosh started down the corridor behind them.

"That was easy." Marion said quietly to Hudson.

"You're the Skipper, sir." Hudson said, and followed Rosh down the corridor. And Marion took up the rear.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Something wrong?" Franks asked. Doral and another technician had been exchanging frustrated whispers.

Doral looked up from the bench he sat at with the communicator in front of him and his friend. The badge's cover had been removed and the isolinear circuitry was exposed. "Sir, we've almost got it set right, butt…"

"Franks squatted down next to the bench. He was a bit lower than Doral and had to look up to talk to him. "But what?"

"We need a couple of pieces of metal. Small pieces, just long enough to make contact with the force field and keep the circuit away from it. But we don't have anything like that." Doral dropped his head in defeat.

Franks shifted on his haunches when he heard someone step towards him. He turned to be faced with a pair of knees. He stood again to greet the newcomer. "Nurse Haas? Can I help you?"

The woman put her hands behind her head. When her arms came back down she shook her head from side to side and her tightly wound bun of hair fell loose and free. Franks felt slightly uncomfortable until she handed him two thin, straight, metal hairpins.

"Thanks." Franks handed the pins to Doral who immediately went back to work.

"Problem?" A gruff voice asked.

"Not anymore, Major." Franks assured him. "We just have to be ready when for when they drop that force field again."

------------------------------------------------------------

Sovek considered the room he was in. It did not have a computer terminal or a replicator, and the bed was hard metal, but the Vulcan did not think it an overly cruel place to be kept. Vulcans usually choose such Spartan quarters voluntarily, although a computer terminal was deemed quite valuable. Had he possessed a sense of humor, he might think it amusing that other species were so distressed by a room that simply lacked the luxuries Federation citizens had come to expect.

Even though Sovek did not think the cell inhospitable, he did welcome his door opening to reveal Doctor Marion, Lieutenant Rosh, and Ensign Hudson. The well being of other possible prisoners on the Dominion ship had been of concern.

"Doctor Sovek!" Marion exclaimed. "Are you ok? Did those beasts harm you?"

"I am in good health, Doctor Marion." The Vulcan responded. "Our captures attempted to use logic to draw out information from me. However, their reasoning was flawed, and their attempts failed."

------------------------------------------------------------

"But we came from this direction." Jordan protested. "We could be heading straight towards Jem'Hadar following the trail of bodies we left."

"Possibly, but this is the way to the shuttle bay." Esco explained. "I know of no other route."

"Do you really think we can get away?" Kizzy asked. "Will a shuttle be able to escape from a warship?"

"I got a pretty good feel for their firing arcs when this ship attacked Nightingale. I know where the holes are and shuttles are pretty agile." Jordan assured her.

"You're not going to have to worry about their firing arcs Ensign. They won't destroy the shuttle, not with me on it." Esco said.

"Why not you? Wouldn't they want to stop the man with cure to their weapon?" Jordan asked.

"No. They're first goal is recovering the canister. It is all that they care about." Esco said.

"The weapon, what race will it effect?" Kizzy asked.

Esco looked at Kizmet. He could not tell if the fear on her face was at the possibility the answer to her question might be _Humans_ or if she was just frightened being on an enemy ship. Either way he knew his answer would not quell any fears. "I can tell you no more. It would compromise my mission and put your lives in even greater danger than I already have."

Esco suddenly stopped walking and his skin changed to match the passageway's colors. "Quiet." He whispered. "Someone is coming."

------------------------------------------------------------

Rosh was shoving his shipmates into a cell. He hadn't heard anything, but Vulcan's hearing was renowned, and Rosh was going to trust Sovek in this instance. He was about to follow them in when he saw the glint of a rifle barrel come around the corner. He pressed the door control, shutting his people inside. He then stepped away from the door, and did not dare look back at it.

With a rifle being pointed at his heart, Rosh could look at little more. It was not until the barrel went down and hung loosely at its bearer's side that Rosh realized he had no reason to fear. "Ensign Singer?"

"Sorry, sir." Jordan said sheepishly. "I thought you were a Jem'Hadar."

"Likewise." Rosh replied, pressing the lock release on the cell door. Marion, Hudson, and Sovek came out into the passageway and Kizmet cam around the corner. Esco was already standing near Jordan, unnoticed, until he changed his skin to the flesh tones the crew had become used to.

"This is a happy coincidence." Marion said. "I wish there was someway of telling if there anyone else from the crew was here."

"Possibly Chief Reilly, but I doubt any others would be useful prospects to our captures." Sovek said.

"Why the Chief?" Hudson asked.

"With the exception of Chief Reilly and the Jem'Hadar First, all that were present in the Nightingale's sickbay when were escaped the Badlands are present here now."

"Damn." Rosh muttered under his breath, causing everyone to turn towards him, their looks demanding a response. "I just realized I forgot to switch Chief Reilly's status from active duty to medically inactive in the ship's official log."

Marion patted the XO on the shoulder. "I'll overlook it this time Mr. Rosh." He joked.

------------------------------------------------------------

They had been standing ready since Doral had finished modifying the communicator, but the alertness and excitement of the first twenty minutes of waiting had worn on everyone involved in the plan. When the door to the cell did open it was completely unexpected, yet still more of a relief than a surprise.

Franks stood at the force field and stared at the guard. Major Riggs and his two men sat behind Franks on the bench, their muscles tight, but looking as nonchalant as war hardened men could. Doral tried his best to stand as if he didn't have a comm. badge under the toe of his boot.

"You need to talk to me again?" Franks hollered at the guard.

The man walked over to the force field Franks was standing behind. "The Deputy Director wants to know why you lied to him."

"Lied?" Franks asked.

"Chief Reilly is alive. You told the Director he was killed in when your vessel encountered the Battleship." The guard said.

"I told him the panel the Chief was sitting at exploded, and then your director ordered you to lock me up in here again." Franks said. "He wasn't killed, he was injured."

"I'll be back." The guard said and began to walk away.

"Would you like to talk to him? He's right here." Franks held his breath and willed the guard to turn around.

The guard did not turn around, but he did stop. He brought his wrist to his mouth and muttered into a wrist communicator. He waited for a reply. He then went over to the console standing in the middle of the room. "Chief Reilly, please step forward." The guard called.

"I'm not moving for you." Reilly muttered to himself.

"Stay where you are and keep quiet." Franks whispered to the Chief as he passed where he was sitting on the bench. Franks stopped in front of Major Riggs. He grabbed him by the arm and whispered "Remember you're blind." Into his ear.

Franks looked at the Major's collar, grateful he wasn't wearing his insignia. As they slowly walked to the force field Franks stole a glance at Doral. The crewman was staring back intently, waiting for his moment. The guard pressed a control on the console and the force field in front of Franks and Riggs was deactivated. The junior officer led the Major across the threshold of the cell.

"You stand back!" The guard ordered Franks.

"The Chief was blinded from his injuries. He can't get around on his own." Franks explained. He gestured to the Major's neck. "He got a pretty nasty scare too."

"Stand back, I will tend to Chief Reilly!" As the guard hollered back he was complete oblivious to the foot of an engineering technician sliding a comm. badge just to the edge of the force field's threshold.

Franks reluctantly acquiesced to the guard's demands. As soon as he was behind the threshold again, the guard pressed a control to raise the force field again. The air in front of Franks briefly glowed blue as it had before, then it was clear again.

Franks looked at Doral again, shrugging ever so slightly. Had it worked? Doral leaned up against a column and let one of his arms swing loosely to his side. Franks watched as the crewman's hand swung slowly across the force field threshold and back again. Nothing stopped it.

The guard was now grabbing Major Riggs by the arm. "Let's go Chief." He commanded. He felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He reeled around and looked at Franks in bewilderment. "What the…" The guard's words were cut short as Major Rigg's trained hand came down hard across his captor's neck. The guard collapsed unconscious on the floor and the Major relieved him of his side arm.

A small cheer went up from the rest of the prisoners, but Franks gestured for them all to be quiet. "Get the rest of the force fields down, and see if you can shut off that comms damping field." Franks ordered Doral, motioning to the console. "And see if you can find out anything about this ship."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Curious." Sovek said after everyone had recounted their experiences since waking up aboard the Dominion ship.

"What's that Doctor Sovek?" Marion asked.

"I have been attempting to construct a timeline of events in my mind, and it appears Ensign Singer shot Yelgrun before Ensign Hudson observed the Vorta questioning you in your cell." Sovek explained.

"That doesn't make sense." Jordan said. "I must have shot Yelgrun just after Hud saw him."

"I don't understand why I was the only one they used the pain probes on." Kizmet said. "Not that I'd wish it on anyone else."

Esco put a hand on Kizzy's shoulder. "They created physiological profiles of us all. Based on those profiles they used the method of interrogation most likely to yield information." He turned back to the rest of the group. "However they are pressed for time. Friendly questioning, if you can call it that, pitting us against one another, or more elaborate non-interrogator questioning are more effective interrogation techniques, but they take far longer."

"It's over now; Yelgrun is dead and won't be conducting any more interrogations." Hudson said. He turned to Esco. "It looks like you won't have to worry about the Devil anymore, now we just have to get out of this hell."

"Yelgrun is not whom I was referring to in our previous conversation Ensign." Esco said. "And while unpleasant a Dominion ship is not the Devil's domain. Hell is a place where truths you are certain of are twisted into lies until your entire world is nothing but deception."

"Twisted truths? Deception? The Vulcan's timeline isn't the only thing that doesn't make sense." Rosh said. "Esco is lying to us. He's lied to us since we picked him up."

"What are you talking about Andorian?" Esco asked.

"You don't have a cure to any disease. If that's what you were being perused for you would have told us immediately, not now. Not here, after we've been captured." Rosh said.

"There was no reason for you to know. If this information gets out it could cause mass panic across the Federation." Esco shot back.

"The Federation is in the middle of a war it is loosing, there already is mass panic. You say you have the cure to a devastating weapon, if anything it would boost moral across the Federation. It would show that we aren't vulnerable to every line of Dominion attack." Rosh's professional exterior was beginning to crack under the immense anger he was trying to suppress.

"I dared not say anything. The cure is not yet complete." Esco said.

"I thought an intelligence officer was trained to use all assets available. You were on board a hospital ship, with access to all kinds of doctors and medical equipment, and you didn't _dare_ mention you were working on a cure to a disease that could wipe out an entire race?" Rosh was fuming.

"He doesn't have the canister anymore." Jordan said.

"He told us he left it on MN-1375." Kizmet added.

Rosh inhaled. His chest cavity expanded as if it were about to blow, but Marion stopped him with a look. "Lieutenant," The CO said calmly, "this isn't helping our present situation." Marion turned to Esco. "Is there anyway we can use this information? Maybe tell the Dominion were the canister is in exchange for our freedom. Then we could help you synthesize and complete the cure after we return to starbase."

"The canister is on MN-1375, but it is empty." Esco replied. "Do you honestly think I would leave the salvation of the Federation on some rock in space?"

------------------------------------------------------------

"We're still in Dominion space. We're at warp but I'm not sure where we're going." Doral said as he operated the console. "The good news is this ship has the Nightingale in tow."

"What ship are we on?" Franks asked.

"It's odd, sir. This ship doesn't seem to have a name, or even a registry number." Doral said.

"How can a Federation ship not have a registry number?' Franks wondered to himself. "What about the Nightingale? It there anyway we can get aboard her?"

"I can isolate one of the ship's transporters, shut down the dampening field, and beam a few people over, but it's an extremely dangerous operation at high warp." Doral answered.

Franks nodded. "Then beam me over, and I'll see what I can do."

"Sir, we just dropped out of warp." Doral reported.

"Where are we? Where did we stop?" Franks asked.

"Nowhere, sir. They just stopped, like they didn't want to go in that direction any more."

"Then beam me over." Franks ordered.

"Wait." Major Riggs interrupted. "I'll go too. You have the command Lieutenant, but you don't have to go alone."

Franks nodded to the Major, glad to have some company. The JO turned back to Doral. "Beam us directly to sickbay. Energize."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Get down!" Rosh yelled as the blue bolts of energy impacted all around them. The Jem'Hadar had come out of nowhere. They had already downed one, but there were still two slowly and methodically fighting their way down the corridor.

Jordan and Esco fired back furiously with their weapons while the rest of the group tried to find any stitch of cover in the empty passageway. Jordan caught one soldier squarely in the chest with a bolt from his rifle. The other was dispatched by Esco's pistol after the Nevlian had used his shifting skin color to move unnoticed towards the assailants.

"Is everyone alright?" Marion asked, coming out from a slight indentation in the bulkhead he had used for cover.

"Kizzy!" Jordan yelled. He dropped his rifle on the deck and ran to young girl's side. Kizmet was lying on the floor, blood slowly being absorbed by the fabric of her clothes from the wound in her shoulder.

"Jordan." Kizzy gasped, leaning back into his arms. "Somehow, I thought it would hurt more." Her knees then buckled beneath her and Jordan eased to the ground, resting her head in his lap.

Jordan could feel the warm blood soaking through his pant leg, making it sticky against his skin. He saw Kizzy's chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. He felt himself being jostled from the right and then the left as Doctor Marion and Doctor Sovek went to work. He heard the sound of tearing fabric as Marion exposed the wound. His gaze locked with Kizzy's. Her eyes were wide and glistened with forming tears. "I'm here." Is all Jordan managed to squeak out of his tightening throat, as he gently caressed her cheek.

With her good arm Kizzy found the hand stroking her cheek and grasped it with her own. She held Jordan's hand with all the strength she had in her. "I'm glad." She said, and even though two of her colleagues were treating her shoulder, Kizzy felt as if she was alone with Jordan. She looked up into his concerned gaze and huddle in his eyes for warmth.

"It's a lot of bleeding." Marion said to Sovek. He was using the fabric he had torn from Kizmet's sleeve to wipe away the blood. The skin was only clearly visible for a moment before more the wound covered itself in blood again, but a moment was all it took for Marion to take note of something very strange.

"We do not have the means to treat the internal damage the shot has caused. The best we can do is dress the wound, and hopefully slow the bleeding." Sovek had already torn his own sleeves off to dress the wound. The Vulcan knew slowing the bleeding was the best they could do. He had seen enough wounds on MN-1375 caused by Jem'Hadar disruptors to know the energy had an anti-coagulant effect.

Marion wiped the blood away from the wound again. "Does this look right to you?" He asked Sovek.

"The wound does not resemble the blast pattern of a Jem'Hadar disruptor." The Vulcan replied.

"Very strange." Marion said. "Dress the wound before she loses anymore blood."

A few feet away Rosh picked up the rifle Jordan had dropped. He checked the charge, put the stock against his should, and leveled the weapon Esco's face. "No more lies Nevlian." He said. "You will tell us what this is all about."

"You're mad." Esco said, his eyes widening and his skin paling in color a bit.

"You bet I'm mad." Rosh replied coolly. "You've endangered my ship, its crew, and someone I hold in higher regard than you is bleeding to death because of it. Tell my why I shouldn't present you to the Dominion myself. Tell them of your cure, of where it is or where it isn't. Tell me why your life is worth more than the life of Doctor Kizmet."

Esco looked at Kizmet, the three men covered in her pooling blood, and he remembered the first time he met her, the time she had saved his life. "You're right." He said. "I am truly sorry for all the suffering I have caused. But I wouldn't go telling Dominion agents about the cure or the disease."

"Why?" Rosh demanded.

"They know nothing of it." Esco replied.

"Then what was in the canister? What is the Dominion after?"

Esco breathed deeply. He again looked to Kizmet, whose skin had paled even behind her dark tan. "Are you familiar with the Founders Mr. Rosh?"

"The race that rules the Dominion? The Shapeshifters?" Rosh asked.

Esco nodded. "They have a unique way of exploring space. They sent out a number of there young to all different parts of the galaxy. The young ones develop, and return to the Founders with a lifetime of experience living among other culture. However, sometimes, before the infant changelings even realize what they are, they are found by someone who realizes their significance."

Rosh was caught between awe and disbelief. "Not a disease, not a cure, a Changeling, that's what was in the canister."

"There is a disease that will destroy the Federation. The changeling is part of the cure." Esco explained.

"Lieutenant!" Hudson yelled. All heads snapped to the Engineer to see him pointing down the other end of the corridor. Standing opposite Hudson's pointing finger was a familiar Vorta flanked by a group of four Jem'Hadar soldiers.

"Don't mind me, please continue with your interrogation Lieutenant Rosh. If you could, ask Esco where the Changeling is now." Yelgrun said in his usual monotonous tone. "Oh, and drop your weapons."

------------------------------------------------------------

The hiss of a nearby door caused Franks looked up from the console in Nightingale's sickbay.

"The ship looks clear. I checked all the operations spaces and a few of the patient and crew quarters. It looks like the only ones onboard are you me and the rest of the patients, but they're under sedation." Major Riggs reported.

"The internal sensors agree." Franks said. "I'm bringing the transporters back online. You might want to stand over here, this room is about to get a little crowded." As he energized the transporter sickbay was bathed in blue shimmering light. The signature whine echoed in the large space as the liberated prisoners materialized. When the lights subsided the whine was replaced with murmurs that soon erupted into cheers. "Now for the tractor beam." Franks said reminding himself it wasn't over yet.

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"I killed you!" Jordan exclaimed. "I saw you die!"

"Honestly Ensign Singer, we already went through this with the Jem'Hadar." Yelgrun answered. "I am a clone of the man you murdered. But unlike the Jem'Hadar, only one Vorta per genome is activated at a time."

"Awfully quick activation. From your banter with the Ensign it seems your downloaded memories have even been updated as early as this morning. That is incredibly efficient by Starfleet intelligence's estimates." Esco said.

"We are at war, efficiency is a top priority." Yelgrun replied. "Tell me Esco, do they actually believe you work for Starfleet Intelligence?"

While no one moved from where they stood Esco could feel the growing distance between him and Nightingale's crewmembers. And while no one spoke the air grew thick with tension.

Yelgrun continued. "The Nevlian race is native to the Gamma Quadrant. They were one of the first alien races the Founders encountered. Esco is no Federation loyalist. His loyalties are to none but himself."

"The Founders have nearly exterminated my people." Esco hollered at the Vorta. He turned back to Nightingale's crew. "The Dominion is our common enemy. I will not let my race's fate befall another."

"And tell them what you are doing with the changeling." Yelgrun urged.

Esco opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself. He looked back towards Yelgrun with a sort of horror across his face, his skin turned to a pasty grayish white.

"Curious." Sovek said to Marion. "The entire exchange since even before Doctor Kizmet was shot seem strikingly like some of the alternative interrogation techniques Esco mentioned earlier."

"And Esco has volunteered more information in the past minutes than he has since we've known him." Marion agreed.

The quiet exchange between the two doctors might have gone unheard by others if the corridor had not been so silent, but in the silence the words carried and Esco heard the entire conversation. "Doctor Marion, what was it you found odd about Doctor Kizmet's wound."

"It is unlike any wound I have seen from a Jem'Hadar disruptor." Marion answered.

"Concentrate on the question in front of you Esco, or are you too much of a coward to tell them what you have done?" Yelgrun asked.

"Our escapes were too convenient. The timing of the attack that injured Doctor Kizmet and your appearance here were too convenient. The Vulcan says Ensign Singer shot you shortly before you spoke with Doctor Marion. Doctor Marion says that Doctor Kizmet's wound is not from a Jem'Hadar weapon. And there is no way a Vorta would know what my plans are for the changeling." As he spoke Esco's posture straightened and his skin turned to a dark steely gray. "End this charade. Take off you mask Sloan.

------------------------------------------------------------

"You did a fine job, sir. I just thought you should know." With a little help from one of the technicians, Chief Reilly had navigated his way through the crowd to find Franks.

"I appreciate it Chief, but we're not finished yet." Franks replied. "We can disable the tractor beam with a phaser blast, but then the ship could still chase us."

"Then we have a simple choice, after we take out the tractor beam we target their engines or we target their weapons. Knocking out either of those systems will make it impossible for them to stop up." The Chief offered.

"Let's see which one is more vulnerable." Franks turned Nightingale's sensors on the other ship. "You know, it doesn't even seem like they're aware we escaped. The ship is just sitting there." The console beeped indicating the full scan was complete. "All twelve of the people left onboard are in the same room, but it isn't the bridge."

"They shouldn't have known I wasn't taken by the Dominion." Reilly muttered. "If they didn't know whether I was alive or not, if they couldn't tell the difference between me and the Major, they shouldn't have known that I wasn't taken by the Dominion."

"What are you talking about Chief?" Franks asked.

"We need to clear out this bay and arm some of our people." Reilly said.

"Chief?"

"Sir, we need to beam all those people over here, all of them." Reilly was certain of it.

Yelgrun's calm demeanor was gone, he was laughing out loud. "I was wondering if you would put it together Esco." The Vorta pressed a control on a bracelet he was wearing. When he did the skin and cloths of the Vorta dissolved to reveal a human with neatly comb brown hair and self assured smirk on his face. Likewise the facades of Jem'Hadar soldiers dissolved to reveal four men holding Federation phaser rifles. Next the very corridor they were standing in vanished and the group was left in a huge empty room. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all covered with the same grid pattern of electronics.

"A holodeck." Hudson gasped.

"Let me introduce you all to the Devil himself. This man is Sloan, the Deputy Director of my intelligence section." Esco said.

"This is a Federation ship?" Marion asked. "I demand access to your medical facilities, this girl needs treatment."

"Doctor Kizmet still has time Commander Marion. If Esco cooperates this will all be over shortly." Sloan said, the tone of hinted he delighted in the power he wielded in the situation.

Suddenly the room shuttered violently, and the lights flickered. "What's happening?" Sloan demanded.

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The scan had indicated four of the twelve men were armed. At Franks' request Major Riggs had found eight of his men among the patients and armed them with the Jem'Hadar weapons the Nightingale had recently acquired. Riggs and his squad now formed a perimeter in sickbay and waited.

Franks fired the first phaser volley from the sickbay console, and then energized the transporter. Moments later the Nightingale's missing crewmembers appeared along with five other men, the group surrounded and covered by the Major's squad.

"Your weapons have been disabled during transport, drop them now!" Riggs commanded.

"Our weapons are shielded from such things." Sloan said.

One of Sloan's men lowered the barrel of his phaser rifle momentarily and fired a brilliant orange beam into the deck. He then rejoined his comrades in leveling the barrel of his rifle at the Nightingale Crewmembers.

"We are only here for the criminal Esco." Sloan said. "Commander Marion, please do what you need to help Doctor Kizmet."

Kizzy was barely conscious now, and her blood had thoroughly soaked through the dressing. Marion directed Sovek and Jordan to move her to a medical table and went to work.

"What crime did Esco commit?" Rosh demanded, not in defense of the Nevlian, but he did not trust Sloan either.

"Attempted genocide." Sloan said. "Esco never told you why his people were all but wiped out by the Shapeshifters. You see, when the Nevlians made first contact with the Founders they grew suspicious and distrustful of a species able to change its appearance at will. Ironic when you think about it, considering the way Nevlians can change their skin."

"You cannot hold a man responsible for the sins of his ancestors." Rosh retorted.

"I was merely attempting to provide you with some perspective Lieutenant Rosh. Esco is attempting to succeed where his ancestors failed. Esco has engineered a disease to destroy the Founders." Sloan smiled. "Ask him if he denies it."

All attention in the room shifted to Esco. "I do not deny it." He said meekly.

"Now do you see why it was necessary to go to such great lengths to capture this man?" Sloan asked. "I must find where the changeling he is experimenting on before he can commit genocide."

"I created the disease at Sloan's instruction. I worked on Earth, and I learned about your Federation." Esco pleaded. "I grew to love your Federation, its goal to unite races and have them coexist in peace was something I had never known living under Dominion rule. Unfortunately, it was not until after completing the disease that I realized wiping out a race, even one as malevolent as the Founders, would destroy the very principles the Federation stood for. What would the Galaxy think when they realized the Federation was responsible? How could any species trust the Federation again? Not even Starfleet could protect the soul of the Federation from crumbling if such an atrocity were committed. I am trying to do the right thing now. I am very close to a cure, a cure Sloan wishes to destroy."

"Do you expect them to believe that Esco? That the Dominion nearly destroyed this ship when it was carrying a cure that would save their Founders?" Sloan asked. "Except responsibility for what you have done. Surrender yourself and the changeling."

"I must complete my mission. I must finish the cure; it is the right thing to do." Esco said.

Rosh did not know who believe, but he cared little who was being truthful now. Now he only wished to protect his crew from further deceit. "Sloan, you, your men, and Esco will surrender to me. When Nightingale returns to Federation space we will turn the lot of you over to the proper autorities and let them sort this out."

Sloan laughed. "I am the proper authority Lieutenant."

"The proper authorities would not shoot an innocent Federation citizen!" Rosh yelled.

"I am sorry about Doctor Kizmet, but…." Sloan's voice trailed off for a moment and he stared at the girl on the operating table being attended to by two doctors and saw a young Ensign glaring back. His self assured smirk turned into a broad smile. "But I am sure she will be fine." Sloan took a few leisurely steps towards Esco. He casually grasped one of his wrists as he did so.

"Stay where you are!" Major Riggs commanded.

Sloan ignored him. "It is a shame Doctor Kizmet was dragged into this, isn't it Esco? I understand she saved your life, and you became good friends. You would even eat together sometimes." The movement was so swift it took a moment before anyone but Sloan and Esco were aware of it. It did not take long to realize that Sloan had pulled the knife sticking in Esco's belly from his sleeve. "She told me you ate wood." Sloan whispered into Esco's ear. "I remember you telling me once your race only used your third stomach in a survival situation, like long winters when food is scarce. You also told me, during such times, you could horde food in another stomach."

"Back away Sloan!" Riggs yelled.

Sloan twisted the knife, making Esco's wound larger. "I wonder if you could horde anything else in your stomach."

Esco dropped to his knees, but Sloan grabbed him to keep him from falling to the ground.

Riggs fired and the rest of his squad followed suite, there was a symphony of loud cracks, but no bolts were fired.

"I took the liberty of activating a small energy dispersion field around me and my men." Sloan explained. "But I assure you the weapons my men carry are still operational." He gestured to one of his men who grabbed an empty beaker of a nearby table. A thick viscous liquid flowed out of Esco's wound into the beaker. Not a single drop was lost as the liquid clung stubbornly to itself until its full volume was in the beaker.

"I deserve this fate, Sloan." Esco force the words out. "But you are condemning the Federation."

Sloan looked at the infuriated Rosh. "Don't look so grim Lieutenant, justice is done. It is a good day for the Federation."

Sloan then stepped aside and one of his men fired at Esco, completely vaporizing the Nevlian. Sloan and his men then beamed away.

"Singer, Franks, bridge, now!" Rosh hollered, taking off in a dead sprint. Franks followed close on the XO's heels.

Jordan hesitated, not able to pull himself from Kizmet's side until Marion slapped him on the shoulder. "Go son, you'll be helping her more up there." Jordan was off in an instant.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Their tractor beam should be disabled." Franks said as he too the left station. "I also got some good shots in on there weapons systems."

"Shields up. Fire at will Lieutenant." Rosh ordered. "Gets us in there close Ensign."

Jordan jumped into his chair behind the helm. "Aye, sir."

"Sir, I can't get a lock." Franks reported. The three stared at the ship on the viewscreen. The outline of the vessel became blurry, and then the entire image faded.

"It's cloaked." Rosh said.

"But Federation ships aren't supposed to have cloaking devices." Jordan said.

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Nearby in the space surrounding the Nightingale a ship sat behind its cloak. On the bridge Sloan sat in the center chair. "Did we retrieve the idiot that let the prisoners out of the holding cell?" He asked.

"He is onboard, Director." The second in command answered. "Orders?"

"Make sure the standard counter intelligence is broadcasted, Dominion ships masquerading as Federation ships and the like." Sloan said. "We were exposed today far more than I anticipated. Rumors of a rouge section of Starfleet Intelligence will only be dismissed so many times."

"Section 31's survival depends on the deniability of its existence." The other agreed.

Sloan nodded his head. "And the Federation depends on us doing whatever is needed to ensure its survival. Esco's vision became clouded. He dwelled far too much on inconsequential laws and principles."

"Esco is a great lost, his talents were quite valuable."

"Quite valuable," Sloan granted, "but replaceable. Call up our files on Doctor Julian Bashir. Perhaps he will have the stomach for our work."

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"Here is Mr. Franks' report on his captivity. He had the pleasure of a one on one chat with Sloan." Rosh said, placing the PADD on Marion's desk.

"How did this happen? Are we really that vulnerable?" Marion asked. He was seated in his chair staring out the window.

"The sensor logs have been erased. There is no record of how we were captured, even the scans when Sloan was on the ship are gone, probably thanks to his dispersion field. Ensign Hudson believes initially the command prefix code was used to seize control of ship functions. And we have detected trace amounts of an anesthetic gas in the ventilation." Rosh reported. "We estimate a loss less than forty hours to the ordeal. It could have been much worse."

"A man is dead." Marion sighed. "But what kind of man? Who do we believe, Esco or Sloan? Who do you think was telling the truth?"

"I wouldn't trust either of them. I think the real question is, after going through this violation and after hearing this ever-changing story about diseases, cures, and changelings, where do we go from here?"

Marion stood and turned to Rosh. "The only place we can go Lieutenant, home."


	9. The Long Road Home

**Chapter 9: The Long Road Home**

Lieutenant Commander Blake Marion entered the bridge and walked towards the center chair, his chair. Lieutenant Rosh rose without a word and Marion sat down. In front of him Ensign Singer was at the helm, and to his left Lieutenant Junior Grade Franks was manning the port station. The seats of both the junior officers were lower than the command chair, placed in pits at the points of the diamond shaped bridge. For the first time Marion realized the subtle subliminal message in having the command seat positioned physically higher than the other chairs. "Status." Marion said. The response was immediate.

"All systems nominal. EMCON is in effect, only passive sensors and communications active." Franks reported.

"On course for Starbase 375, speed warp five point three, ETA twenty-eight hours." Jordan reported from the helm.

Marion spoke quietly to his XO, "Mr. Rosh, remind me, what is EMCON?"

"Emission Control, sir. We are limiting any type of energy emission that could give away our position to the enemy." Rosh explained in an equally hushed tone.

"Hopefully we'll slip by." Marion said. He then smiled and addressed the whole bridge. "Just over a day and we'll be home. I'm hesitant to celebrate too early given our propensity to find trouble in recent days. However, the manner in which this crew has reacted to these challenges, the manner in which you have reacted to these challenges, I am optimistic that we will be home tomorrow."

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"Are you feeling any discomfort?" Sovek asked as he scanned Kizmet with a medical tricorder.

"My shoulder is still a little tender, but there is no pain." Kizzy said, lying on the medical table. "And it feels kind of odd being the one on the table."

"Your wound is healing properly. As for your _odd feeling_, I am sure it will pass once we are through." The Vulcan assured her.

"Sovek, that was a joke."

Sovek raised an eyebrow. "Then I am certain a more emotional species would have responded to your witticism with a laugh."

Kizzy chuckled and wondered if the Vulcan realized he had just made a witticism of his own. But her smile faded when her thoughts wondered to more serious matters. "Sovek, what happened with Esco?" She asked.

"He was vaporized." Sovek said matter-of-factly.

"I meant, was he a good man? Was he really trying to cure a disease?"

Sovek reflected on the question before answering. "I don't know."

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"Lights." Hudson said as he entered the darkened quarters.

"Whose there?" Chief Reilly barked from his desk.

"It's Ensign Hudson, Chief." The engineer laid the plate and mug he was carrying on the desk in front of the Chief. "I thought you might be hungry."

"Shouldn't you be putting this bucket of bolts back together, sir?"

"I was. Since we're at EMCON, I was looking for places I could cut power to, so our energy signature would be smaller. I notice energy use from your quarters but no lights." Hudson explained. "And I figured you'd be getting hungry held up in here."

"And how did you figure that?" Reilly asked.

"You're supposed to be in sickbay. I doubted you would venture to the galley, risking recapture once you made your escape."

"With my pretty little Doc gettin' shot, I didn't think I'd be missed." Reilly gently probed the plate and mug with his fingers. "So what did you bring me?"

"A roast beef sandwich and black coffee." Hudson answered. "According to the computer, this is what you order most from the replicator."

"I probably couldn't even find my way to the galley anymore." Reilly sighed. "Not like this."

"I doubt that Chief. You know this boat like the back of your hand. You could've found your way around blind folded before your accident. Heck, you found your way back to your quarters."

"Stop trying to cheer me up, sir. Maybe I can get around the ship, big whoop. I still can't do my job. I'm useless, I'm nothing but ballast."

"You figured out how to get me and everyone else stranded on that Kelvanite planet back to Nightingale. Franks said you realized that the skipper, the XO, and the rest of us were aboard Sloan's ship. You're still a valued member of this crew, can't you see that?"

"I can't _see_ anything!" Reilly snapped back. "But I can help you with your power signature. Computer, shut off the damn lights."

------------------------------------------------------------

Franks checked the signal a second time. It didn't make sense, and he did not want to report a communications glitch as something more serious. The signal repeated, and it was undeniable. "Lieutenant Commander Marion, we're receiving a distress call."

"From who?" Marion was as surprised as Franks.

"It's pretty garbled, but definitely Federation. I might be able to clean it up a bit." Franks reported.

"Can you put it on screen?" Rosh asked.

Franks tapped a few controls and a static filled image of a battle torn bridge appeared on the viewscreen. The audio was unintelligible at first, but the image, fading in and out, revealed a woman sitting in the center of the bridge. In front of her sat the ship's operation's officer and helmsman at their respective stations. Even through the static she was obviously a Starfleet Captain.

Jordan was stunned. He could not describe the feeling that overcame him. It was hope and disappointment all at once, a stifled optimism and a surreal malaise.

"This is captain…of the USS…Dominion Battle…could use some help…" Words began to break through the static as Franks refined the filter.

"What ship?" Marion asked.

"I couldn't make it out, sir." Rosh answered.

"It's the Noble." Jordan was as sure of it as he was sure that Jacob Millen was manning the ship's helm.

"But the Noble was destroyed. It said so in the message Torr intercepted." Marion said.

"We were also on that list." Rosh reminded him. "The Noble must have been caught behind the lines, like we were."

"I have the full message now." Franks reported.

The image reappeared in tighter focus, and the female Captain spoke again. "This is Captain Taylor of the USS Noble. We've been ambushed by a Dominion Battleship. If anyone's out there, we could use some help." The message ended and the viewscreen reverted back to the image of stars streaking by at warp speed.

The officers on the bridge all turned towards their Commanding Officer. Marion leaned back in his chair uneasily. His mind was blank, what could he do? "Mr. Rosh?" He finally said.

"The Noble is a Galaxy Class starship, very powerful. If all things were equal she might have a fighting chance one on one with a Dominion Battleship. But she has been behind the lines at least as long as we have." Rosh thought for moment then added. "I doubt she is in a winning battle."

"What difference could we make?" Marion asked, almost under his breath.

"We are not a combat vessel, sir." Rosh said.

"Could we warn someone else?" Marion searched for options.

Franks switched to long range sensors. "There's no one is range, sir."

Marion nodded. He stood up and paced to the back of the back of the bridge. "We're only a day from home." He turned and paced the other direction. "We're only a hospital ship." He stopped when he was behind his chair again. He ran his hand across the head rest. The other chairs on the bridge were lower than his. The Captain's chair was set apart, isolated, alone. "This ship's mission is one of life." Marion sighed. He looked up, back at the faces waiting for his decision. "And we're not going to let those people die."

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Jordan walked down the corridor staring at the bare metal deck. At the Academy he had read the final logs Starship Captains had recorded before they charged into an un-winnable battle. Almost all of them had walked the corridors of their doomed vessels, contemplating what was to come. But Jordan's thoughts did not dwell on how he would fare in the impending battle with the Dominion ship. His thoughts were focused on a much greater struggle, a conflict not his own.

"Jordo!"

"Hey Hud." Jordan said softly.

Hudson patted his friend on the back as he caught up with him. "I thought you'd be on the bridge."

"Franks told me to get some rest. Said he got sleep pretty recently, and he wanted me sharp. Pretty decent of him really."

"I just talked to Rosh. We came up with a plan. It's a little wild, but I don't think it's nearly as crazy as what we've done the past week and a half."

"Funny, it seems longer."

"Worried about the battle?" Hudson asked with concern.

"It's not that." Jordan replied. "The ship we're going to help, it's the Noble. It's Kizzy's fiancée's ship."

"He's alive? Jordan, I'm…" Hudson searched for the words. "I don't know what I am, I mean that's a messed up situation."

Jordan nodded. "What if somehow we survive this and Jacob doesn't? She's already lost him once Hud. I don't know if she could stand loosing him again."

"We'll worry about that after. You should rest."

"Yeah." Jordan sighed. "But I have something to do first."

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"How long?" Marion asked upon hearing the door to his quarters swoosh open. He did not even turn to greet his visitor. He just stood in front of his window, staring at the stars streaking by.

"Twenty-five minutes." Rosh reported. "The patient volunteers are being medically cleared in sickbay.

"Are there enough?"

"Major Riggs said he wanted fourteen men, including himself. We've had to turn some away. Every soldier that could walk volunteered, even a few that couldn't."

"I feel I may breach the hull with my gaze if I stare out that window any harder." Marion said finally turning to his executive officer. "Besides, I'm not finding my answers there."

"The window gives you answers, sir?" Rosh was perplexed.

"No, not the window, the stars beyond the window." Marion explained. "There is an old superstition on Earth, that the stars hold all the answers. At one time it was thought that they could even predict the future. But being here among them, I have found more questions than answers."

"What answers are you looking for?"

"We could be destroyed before the day is out. With us the knowledge of Esco, Sloan, and the rumored bio-weapons would also be destroyed. And no one would ever know how heroically this crew has performed under the most adverse of conditions. Would the Federation be served better if I ordered this ship to turn back towards Starbase 375? Are we doing the right thing?"

"I am no Doctor, but being aboard this ship I have learned a thing or two about medicine. One lesson in particular is that it is impossible to cure a wide spread disease all at once. It has to start with saving just one individual. For all the fame and glory that comes with curing an epidemic, in the end it all comes down to one life, one stand in which victory or defeat determines all that is to follow."

"But is this risk necessary? Is this a battle that needs to be fought?"

"Have you ever walked away from saving a life?"

"Thank you Mr. Rosh, for helping me justify my decision."

"With all due respect, sir. There never was a decision."

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The battle had begun. Jordan knew what he wanted, but he also knew what he had to do. When it came down to it, he was a creature of duty, like all good Starfleet officers. And while his inexperience and naiveté sometimes delayed him from finding the correct course of action, he always found it in the end. When fighting the ship, from a helmsman's perspective, it is not nearly enough to know how to put your vessel exactly where you want it to be. Anticipating how other ships will respond to your movements is just as important. Jordan slowed, and maneuvered into position. He braced himself for the first volley.

"Jordan, I was hoping I'd see you." Kizzy gave him a sheepish smile. "I wanted to wish you luck."

"You've heard?" Jordan asked.

"You sound nervous."

"I'm not sure if we can save the ship."

"I know you've gotten me through some tough situations. Whoever is on that ship is lucky to have you helping them." Kizzy's old sense of optimism was creeping back into her voice.

"You don't know?" Jordan asked.

"Know what Jordan?"

"The ship we're going to help, it's the Noble. Jacob is alive."

Kizzy's jaw dropped open and her eyes grew wide. She blinked and a single tear rolled down one cheek. Without warning she threw her arms around Jordan's neck. "This is wonderful!"

When they finally broke their embrace Jordan saw Kizmet smiling in pure bliss, wiping tears of joy from her eyes. "I'm happy for you." He said, hoping that one day he could be.

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"I don't need anymore scans or time to recover or any of your medical opinions!" The patient was becoming increasingly agitated. "I'm going on this mission, Vulcan!"

Doctor Sovek ignored the man's protest and continued his examination. "The ligaments in your shoulder still have not fully healed. If they tear you will be in excruciating pain."

"I'll take that chance." The man said as Sovek grabbed him by the arm. "Hey! What are you doing?"

The Vulcan Doctor pressed a hypospray into his patient's injured soldier. "This should last for the next twelve hours. If the ligaments do tear you will be quite aware of it, but you will still be able to fight."

"So you're not sidelining me?" The patient asked, caught off guard by Sovek's actions.

"If this mission does not succeed, torn ligaments will be the least of your concerns." Sovek replied as he picked up a PADD and designated the patient medically cleared for duty.

Both patient and Doctor looked up when they heard "May I have your attention" echo throughout sickbay over the comm. system. The speaker was Ensign Hudson, who was standing at the forward end of the bay. He held a small rod between his thumb and index finger. He raised it over his head, so it could be seen clearly by all around. "This is a viridium rod, they are being passed around to everyone on the away team. Do not loose it. If the Jem'Hadar scramble our comm. signals, these rods will be the only way to get a transporter lock to bring us back."

Major Riggs stepped forward. "Everyone I assigned to team alpha will be with Ensign Hudson and myself. Team Bravo will be lead by First Lieutenant Shay, and you will be escorting Crewman Doral to the objective. Form up in your teams, and the Engineers will brief the mission."

There was a quiet murmur floating around the space as the soldiers of MN-1375 that had been medically cleared collected their viridium and found their team leaders. A gray haired man with a blue collar peeking out from beneath his Starfleet uniform stood watching from the door. He walked over the Ensign Hudson and tapped him on the shoulder. "Ensign, could you open up that comm. channel again, and one to the rest of the ship."

"Yes sir, Commander Marion." Hudson replied, and hit a few controls on sickbay's main panel.

Marion turned to the crowd and cleared his throat. He was slightly surprised as cough echoed over the speakers in the large space. "All hands, this is Lieutenant Commander Blake Marion. As of now we are a day's travel from Federation space, but that is not where we are headed. We are responding to a distress call from a follow Starfleet vessel trapped behind the lines. The Nightingale is not a combat vessel, but she does excel in another area, saving lives. As a Doctor I have pledged to do no harm. It is not enough to simply avoid inflicting damage; if we are presented with the opportunity to assist those in need we must take it. Ironically, today the patients will save the Doctors as well as our compatriots in distress. Patient volunteers from MN-1375 will be carrying out a mission that will save lives where my medical staff's skills cannot. I wish you all luck, and I thank you for following me into harm's way. I never imagined I would hear myself uttering these words: red alert, prepare for battle."

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"Are we in communications range?" Marion asked as he entered the bridge.

"Yes, sir." Rosh said, standing up from the command chair. "We've set up a narrow band line of sight subspace channel. We'll be able to hail the Noble with out alerting the Dominion Battleship to our approach."

Marion sat down in his chair. "Open the channel."

"Open, sir." Franks reported from the starboard station.

"USS Noble, This is Lieutenant Commander Blake Marion, Commanding Officer, USS Nightingale." A moment passed then the woman from the distress call appeared on the viewscreen.

"Nightingale, I'm Captain Taylor. It's good to hear a friendly voice again." The bridge shook as she said this. She quickly dulled out orders to return fire and take evasive maneuvers before turning back to the viewscreen. "My helmsman tells me you're a hospital ship. We need combat assistance, not medical care. I must recommend you withdraw."

"Noted." Marion said. "We're approximately five minutes from your position. We have a plan, but we'll need you to disrupt the Battleship's shields."

Captain Taylor listened intently as Marion quickly laid out the plan. She nodded and smiled, then looked to her operations officer. "A tachyon burst from the main deflector?"

"The deflector is crossed circuited up the wazzu. If we jimmy with it, it could fail completely." A Commander sitting forward and to the left of her replied. "The science lab has some portable tachyon emitters for research. We could fit them to a few torpedoes."

"You've got five minutes Mr. Elliot, get it done." Captain Taylor commanded.

"Roger that, Ma'am." Elliot was already halfway to the turbolift.

"Marion you are either the most brilliant or the most foolish Skipper I have ever met. I'm banking on brilliant, but if I'm wrong at least no one will be around to _say I told you so_." Taylor chuckled, although she seemed half serious.

"I have a fine crew, they won't disappoint." Marion said. "We'll see you in five minutes."

"Noble will be ready." Taylor assured him.

"Lieutenant Millen." Jordan interrupted. "I wanted you to know, Kizmet is doing fine."

Even as the rest of the bridge crew grimaced at the tremors sent through the Noble by another volley of fire from the battleship, her helmsman smiled broadly. "Thanks, that means a lot." Jacob Millen said.

------------------------------------------------------------

Commander Elliot was in a dead sprint for the torpedo magazine. Behind him two science officers he had found on the way to the research labs strained to keep up. Each of the three officers hugged a barely portable tachyon generator to their chest.

As Elliot rounded the last corner to the magazine he heard a crash followed by a curse from one of the science officers. He turned to see one of the men sprawled out on the floor. The man had tripped, and sent his generator tumbling as he fell. The controls on the bulkward box were blinking erratically.

"Leave it!" Elliot commanded, and took off again.

He entered the magazine huffing, and sweaty. He put the generator on the floor, and gestured towards one of the weapons on the loading rack. "Get the panel off that torpedo. We have to remove the warhead." He ordered a stunned crewman, who jumped into action despite his surprise. The science officers then burst into the room with the other generator. "Computer, time?" Elliot barked.

"Two minutes and fifty-seven seconds have elapsed since activation of this timer." The not quite feminine voice of the computer reported.

Elliot heaved up the generator he had been carrying, and positioned it over the cavity in the torpedo that had held the recently removed warhead. "Time's a-wasting fellas."

------------------------------------------------------------

The picture that appeared on the viewscreen as the Nightingale dropped out of warp was one that Jordan recognized. While the image of a Galaxy Class Starship and a Dominion Battleship locked in combat was not one he had physically witnessed with his own eyes, he had seen it many times before in his dreams. The dreams he had as a Cadet before he was assigned to a hospital ship. The dreams he had before that ship had been trapped behind the lines.

In those dreams Jordan was helming the mighty Galaxy Class ship, and his natural ability as a born helmsman lead the ship to heroics and victory. Loss was always on the Dominion's side. A Federation defeat was unfathomable.

Sitting behind the helm of the Nightingale, plunging towards the fiery red phaser beams from the Noble, and the bursts of brilliant blue energy from the Battleship's disruptors, Jordan did not feel as he had thought he would in his dreams. He did not feel fear, at least not the kind one would expect when joining the losing side of a battle. He felt in control and surprisingly calm as he always did behind the helm. However, he did not feel the lust for combat that had haunted his childish dreams. He knew now that loss was inevitable, that defeat on some level would be experienced on both sides of the conflict, and that victory was the only thing that could elude both the Federation and the Dominion.

"Time to target?" Rosh asked.

"Twenty seconds." Jordan replied.

Marion looked to Franks. "The Battleship's shields?"

"Seventy percent and holding." Franks reported. "Sensor readings confirmed, the Battleship is the same one we faced after escaping the badlands."

"The Noble better do something fast." Marion muttered.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Where are those torpedoes Mr. Elliot?" Captain Taylor's question came over the comm.

"No, no, no!" Elliot snapped at one of the science officers. "You have to connect this lead here."

He huffed and tapped his comm. badge. "Almost there Captain."

"Almost doesn't cut it, we need those torpedoes now!"

------------------------------------------------------------

"Ten seconds to transporter range." Singer reported.

"Noble, if you you're planning on doing something, now would be the time." Marion said nervously over the comm.

"They're not ready. We're not going to make it. We're going to run into their shields." Franks said.

"Five seconds." Jordan said as he trimmed up the impulse thrust. They were about to get hammered with disruptor fire, that was unavoidable. However he could minimize their exposure by a second or two with the right flight path. But none of that would matter if the Battleship's shields weren't interrupted.

"If we do run into their shields?" Marion asked Rosh quietly.

"Like running into a wall." Was the Andorian's response.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Elliot!" Taylor cried.

The Commander shut the access panel, and hit the loading control. "Lock and load Captain!"

------------------------------------------------------------

Undaunted by the appearance of the small hospital ship, the Dominion Battleship turned to face the Nightingale head on. The gall of Nightingale's apparent collision course caused an unofficial armistice. The main hull of the Battleship looked like the head of a spear. The sweep of the struts that held its warp nacelles made the massive ship look like a predator cat ready to pounce.

The cease fire was then broken as two photon torpedoes were fired from the Noble. When they found their target, the usual eruption created by the antimatter warhead did not occur. Instead each torpedo released a puff of blue energy. The wisps of tachyons spread out across the Battleship's shields, causing them to flicker on and off.

------------------------------------------------------------

As the Nightingale reached the Battleship's shield barrier, the bridge rumbled and shook. "It's the Battleship trying to reestablish its shields." Rosh explained as he looked over Frank's shoulder. "We should be fine."

"Ensign Hudson." Marion called, as he opened an internal comm. channel to sickbay. "Transport when ready."

The ship then pitched violently. "Their shields again?" Marion asked.

"It's disruptor fire, sir." Franks said.

"Transport complete." Rosh reported.

"Get us out of here with all due haste Ensign Singer." Marion commanded.

------------------------------------------------------------

"You up?" Riggs asked First Lieutenant Shay after arranging his own squad in a defensive position. The passage way they where in was well lit, but its deep gray color that bordered on black made it appear mach darker than it was. The Major wondered if the Dominion had chosen the color to protect against just what they were trying to do. The color matched the Uniform of the Jem'Hadar perfectly. Maybe, but Riggs knew the Jem'Hadar did not need painted walls to improve their camouflage.

After double-checking his count, Shay nodded and gave a thumbs up with his free hand. The other hand kept his rifle pointed down his field of fire.

"Which way?" Riggs asked Hudson.

"One second." The engineer had his tricorder out and was accessing a wall console. "I should be able to bring up a corridor schematic."

"Should be able to? What happens if you can't, we go knocking door to door?" Shay asked.

"Quiet!" Riggs snapped. He raised his rifle and moves the barrel in deliberate movements, a little to the right, a little to the left. It seemed he was trying to zero in on specific point of the bulkhead across from him.

"Found it." Hudson said, pleased with how easy it had been.

"Quiet!" Riggs commanded again. His rifle's barrel froze in a single direction. He fired. The blue bolt didn't make it halfway across the corridor before it impacted. A Jem'Hadar soldier seemed to materialize out of thin air as his shroud lost power. The lifeless body fell to the ground.

Five more soldiers appeared, dropping their personal cloaking devices so they could fire, but they never got the chance. Rigg's men opened fire and killed the Soldiers as quickly as they had appeared.

Riggs looked towards the stunned Hudson. "The Jem'Hadar should re-design their genetically engineered noses. They breathe too loud."

"Right." Hudson said, still in awe of what just happened. He shook his head and focused on the mission. "Doral, link you tricorder with mine. I'll upload the directions to ventral shield control." As he was working he looked to Shay. "The explosive I gave you contains trilithium resin, a highly volatile waste product of our warp core. The containment unit should keep it stable enough, but don't give it any bumps."

------------------------------------------------------------

"They're ignoring Noble completely." Rosh hollered as Nightingale's bridge lurched again.

"Our shields are down to forty-one percent!" Franks cried.

"More speed Mr. Singer." Marion ordered, a bead of sweat breaking out on his brow. He feared the battleship, but even more he feared his decision was going to mean the end of his ship and his crew.

"Engines are already to flank, sir." Jordan replied.

"Rosh to engineering, we need more power to the impulse engines."

The scared voice of an engineering tech came back over a staticy comm. "We're trying, sir. But our shield generators and impulse drive are the only things their shooting at. Once we get an ounce more power out of them, they take away a quart."

Rosh tuned to Marion. "Their trying to disable us, not destroy us. They might think we still have Esco."

The hard impact from another volley of fire made the ship buck. It was followed by shuttering vibration that rumbled from somewhere within the Nightingale. "What was that?" Marion asked once it had passed.

"We're loosing speed." Jordan reported. "Impulse limited to one third."

"Engineering what's going on?" Rosh demanded.

------------------------------------------------------------

Unbeknownst to the Nightingale's bridge crew their every word was being incepted over the comm. As were all communications made to the bridge.

"Engineering what's going on?" The observer heard Rosh say.

"They're still targeting our impulse engines, sir. The last hit somehow caused the overtemp cutoff valve to shut." The engineer replied.

"Open it!" Rosh commanded.

"The actuating servo is fused." The technician said helplessly.

"Do it manually, we need more speed!" Rosh barked.

The technician sighed in frustration. "We tried sir, but the Jefferies tube is filled with smoke. We can't even see the valve."

"Christ." The observer to the conversation muttered. "It's freaking amateur hour."

Chief Reilly then shut off the comm. and left his quarters.

------------------------------------------------------------

Franks was frantic. "They're closing fast! Shields down to twenty-eight percent!"

Marion opened a comm. channel. "Noble, we're taking quite a beating."

Captain Taylor's voice came back immediately. "We're trying to position our self in between yourself and the Battleship, but they're not making it easy to get around."

Jordan checked his navigation. The Battleship was nearly on top of them. The Noble trailed closely behind. He could see the Galaxy class ship jinxing to port, then to starboard, trying to find a seam around the Dominion ship, but the Battleship match every maneuver. "Tell Noble to come to course 080 mark 4, slow to two thirds impulse."

"Pardon?" Marion asked, unsure of why orders seemed to be flowing the wrong way.

"I can get us behind the Noble, but we need their help." Jordan assured him.

Marion nodded and repeated the instructions to Captain Taylor.

As soon as Taylor acknowledged the transmission Jordan disengaged the safety interlocks and fired the Nightingale's thrusters. This allowed him to achieve max acceleration, even overcoming Nightingale's own inertial dampers.

Marion felt himself rising out of his chair, he gabbed the armrests to hold himself down.

------------------------------------------------------------

While the crew in the forward part of the ship was being pulled towards the overhead, the crew members in the aft sections were yanked down. Chief Reilly was waling down a cooridor, dragging his hand along one bulkhead for reference. When the Nightingale lurched into its turn he tumbled forward in the passageway and found himself face to face with the deck plating. Rising to his knees, the ship was hit again by Dominion disruptors. The Chief slipped and was on the deck again.

------------------------------------------------------------

Jordan came out of his turn and the artificial gravity quickly stabilized. He set the impulse engines to flank speed, barely one third of their normal output. The Battleship had come to a stop and was turning towards Nightingale at a much more controlled rate.

Relative to the Nightingale the Noble was now diving towards her from above. Jordan hadn't had time to do exact calculations. The course and speed he had told Lieutenant Commander Marion just felt right. Jacob Millen was driving the Noble along the exact course at the precise speed Jordan had demanded. He hoped he hadn't been over zealous.

Jordan's own course was right where he wanted it, and his speed was maxed out. The disastrous consequences of an error on his part were overwhelming his thoughts. With no corrections to input he could only sit, wait, and hope that the two Federation ships would not collided.

As the Noble approached the bridge crew drew in a collective breath and held it. The Noble threw its thrusters into hard reverse. It came to a stop; the Nightingale below it, and the Battleship above at point blank range.

------------------------------------------------------------

Chief Reilly was on his feet and feeling his way around the passageway. Both bulkheads felt the same. He took a moment to regain his bearings. The moment passed and he still wasn't sure.

"Hello?" He hollered. No answer. "Computer?" He asked. The only response was a disconcerting beep. He turned one way and then another. "Son of a…" He muttered. "I'm lost."

------------------------------------------------------------

Hudson, staring at his tricorder, led his team through the corridors of the battleship. He held up his free hand and stopped the squad. His figures moved over the tricorder's controls, changing the sensor setting in the handheld device. He un-holstered his phaser, raised it and fired. A shrouded Jem'Hadar dropped to the ground out of nothingness.

Riggs looked at him questioningly.

Hudson shrugged. "I programmed it to listen for breathing."

Riggs cracked a half smile. "Good shot." He said. "Are we getting close?"

"Closer," Hudson said, "but there is still more ahead than behind."

------------------------------------------------------------

The Battleship was backing off. Its engines were in full reverse, trying to open some distance between itself and the Noble. Red streams of phaser fire were flowing out of every bank the Noble had pointed at the Battleship. But it did not answer a shot; it continued its slow retreat.

A Dominion Battleship is as singular minded as the Jem'Hadar who run it. When an obstacle foolishly places itself in front of the objective, it is merciless.

The hammering the Battleship had given the Nightingale had not been done at full power. The goal was to disable the Hospital ship and capture the Nevlian. That goal was limping away. The Noble insisted on interfering.

When it had backed away to optimal firing range the Battleship came to a stop. The weapons were recalibrated to full power, and the ship fired. The torrent of disruptor fire and torpedoes was overwhelming. The Noble's shields strained to absorb the energy of the unrelenting rain of fire.

Nightingale saw none of this. The huge frame of the Galaxy class ship obscured the exchange completely. It was not until Franks noticed an odd radiation spike on his sensor readout that the seriousness of Noble's situation became apparent.

On the visual scanners it appeared that a blinking light had been place just off center on the ventral side of the Noble's saucer section. But after blinking twice the light erupted, sending chunks of the Noble's hull outward followed by a plume of blue energy.

"Dear lord." Franks gasped as he watched several disruptor shots pass through the gaping hole and impact the Noble's ventral shield from the inside. "Sir, the Noble, it's…"

Rosh looked back over Franks' shoulder. "They've blown a hole right through her."

"Marion to Noble." The Doctor waited uneasily for a reply that did not come. "Marion to Captain Taylor." Again he was met with no reply.

Rosh shook his head. "Their bridge has been obliterated. They're dead in space."

And for the first time since entering the battle, Jordan felt unnerved, and let out a quiet sigh. "Kizzy."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Uh oh." Hudson muttered, coming to a stop.

Riggs stepped next to him. "What is it?"

Hudson tilted the tricorder screen toward Riggs so the Major could see the screen. The tricorder displayed a map of battleship's corridors. A small green symbol in the middle indicated their present position. Surrounding that position from every corridor were small red symbols, and they were getting closer. The Major did not know much about the engineer's tool, but Hudson did not need to explain what the small red dots were.

Riggs turned to his men. "Incoming." He whispered, giving several hand motions to his squad. The men nodded and silently formed a perimeter. He took Hudson by the arm and pushed him down against the wall. "We won't be able to hold them off for long, not that many of them." He told the engineer. "Start looking for another way to the objective."

------------------------------------------------------------

"The Battleship has resumed pursuit." Rosh reported.

"They're only going to disable us, right?" Franks asked. "They still think we have Esco."

"And when they find he is not among us, Lieutenant? At one third impulse they will catch us. If we were able to go to warp, they would catch us. No quasars or planets to hide behind, nothing to bargain with. We're out of trump cards." Marion ran his hand through his gray hair. His decisions had led them to this point. He prayed he had not led them to the end. "Is there anything? Any spatial anomaly, any pocket of gas, anything besides empty space that we could take advantage of?"

"There's nothing, sir." Franks replied dejectedly. "Nothing, except a few clouds of neutrinos ahead of us."

"Neutrinos?" Marion asked.

"Leptons, sir. Electrically neutral subatomic particles." Rosh explained.

"I know what they are Mr. Rosh. I'm trying to remember…" Marion stroked his chin absently. "I read about them, or talked about them. Something recent..." Marion snapped his fingers and shot a knowing glance at his XO.

"Sir?" Rosh asked.

"Ensign Singer, alter course towards the neutrinos." Marion ordered.

"Sir," Jordan said. "They're moving towards us."

------------------------------------------------------------

The patient was understandably fearful. She had heard the Commanding Officer's address earlier; she knew the ship was heading into battle. She had seen the lights in her room flicker and felt the ship shutter as it was fired upon. And now there was man with a very disturbing look in his eyes standing in her doorway. He had burst into her room and yelled something at her, but she was so surprised she couldn't make out what he was saying.

"I know somebody is in here, I can hear you breathing!" Chief Reilly hollered in frustration. "Is there a window in this room?"

"What?" She asked, instinctively pulling her sheet over her body up to her neck.

"A window, woman! Is there a window in this room? I'm blind, so I can't tell, and I have to find out if I'm on the inboard or outboard side of this corridor."

"Y-yes." She stammered. "There is a window."

"Finally." Reilly huffed and left the room as quickly as he had come.

------------------------------------------------------------

"How long until we reach the neutrino clouds?" Marion asked.

"Eighty seconds." Jordan responded.

"And when will the battleship be within weapons range?" As soon as Marion had finished the question the all too familiar vibrations weapons impact rocked the Nightingale.

"Shields down to fifteen percent!" Franks reported.

"Will they last another forty seconds?" Marion asked.

Franks shook his head. "I don't think so."

Rosh tapped his comm. badge. "Engineering, we need more power to impulse or more power to shields. I don't care which, but we need it now."

------------------------------------------------------------

"See what you can do about those shields!" Reilly barked as he entered engineering. "And some one point me towards the Jefferies tube."

"Chief, we can't see a thing in there." A crewman protested as he led the Chief to the access hatch.

"If we get out of this I want you to think about how stupid that must sound to me." Reilly retorted as he heaved himself up into the Jefferies tube. "And after that I'm going to give all of you a systems knowledge review. You don't have to see the damn thing with your eyes if you can see it in your head."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Fourty-seven seconds to intercept." Jordan reported.

"Shields at fifteen percent." Franks added.

"Can we set up the transporter scattering field Mr. Hudson devised?" Marion asked Rosh.

"Only if we power down the shields and engines, but without the shields they could knock out the transporter system with a single shot." Rosh explained.

"We were close." Marion sighed.

"It might not even be them, the neutrinos could be natural." Rosh said.

"Sir! We just got full impulse power back!" Jordan elated. "New time to intercept, ten seconds."

"Engineering, well done!" Marion exclaimed.

"Pleasure being of use, Skipper." Chief Reilly's voice replied over the comm.

"Three seconds to the neutrino clouds." Jordan reported. A hush fell of the bridge, as if making the slightest sound would prevent it from being what they hoped it was. "We've pasted them." Jordan finally said.

"I was wrong." Marion muttered, slumping into his chair.

"Something is happening." Franks said, scrutinizing his sensor readout. "Three ships decloaking!"

"They're Klingon!" Rosh shouted, allowing relief to overcome his normally calm tone.

The face of Captain Torr appeared on the viewscreen. "Nightingale, standby to drop your shields. We'll get you out here."

Marion straightened up in his chair. "Not this time Captain Torr." He replied. "We need you to keep the Battleship busy while we assist the Noble."

Torr erupted into laughter. "You are out gunned, out powered, and out manned, but you do not yield! Check you medical scanners Doctor, you may find that you are Klingon!"

------------------------------------------------------------

Hudson wiped the sweat from his brow. The temperature of the corridor had increased drastically once the fire fight had begun. The bolts of energy spouting from the rifles on both sides made the air acrid. And the fact that the Jem'Hadar were coming ever closer from both ends of the passage way would have had Hudson sweating regardless of the temperature. They could not go forward and they had been cut off from behind. The tricorder map showed only one option.

"There." Hudson pointed.

"Don't be an idiot, that's a bulkhead." Riggs replied.

"There is a service tunnel directly behind it."

Riggs contemplated the information for a moment, then adjusted the power setting on his rifle. There was an audible sound as the rifle overloaded is chamber. Riggs fired. There was an eruption of dust and debris, but left in its place was a substantial hole. "Everybody inside!" He commanded.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Still no response." Franks said.

"Life signs indicate most of the crew is still alive." Rosh said.

"Perhaps their comms system is out." Marion speculated.

"That or their command structure has been totally obliterated. It's probably complete chaos over there." Rosh replied.

"Continue to hail them." Marion ordered, standing up and moving towards the door.

"Going somewhere, sir?" Rosh asked.

"Over to the Noble." Marion explained. "Doctor Sovek should have the medical away team assembled. I'm leading the team."

Rosh stepped close to his superior and spoke softly. "Sir, you're place is on the bridge of your ship."

Marion responded in equally quiet tones. "I'm a doctor, Mr. Rosh. You belong here; my place is where injured people need my help. You have the bridge."

Before Rosh could object Maion walked out the door.

"Sir, someone is responding to our hails." Franks informed the disappointed Andorian.

Rosh moved to the center chair before responding. "On screen."

"Nightingale, this is Commander Elliot. As far as I can tell, I'm in charge over here." The man on the screen said.

"We're sending a medical team over to assist your injured." Rosh said. "Is there anything else you need?"

"Thank you. We've regained most command functions through the battle bridge. Weapons and shields should be online soon. We've got all we could ask for, considering." Elliot replied, before adding with a chuckle. "Unless you happen have a spare helmsman lying around there."

"I'll send him over with the medical team." Rosh turned towards the starboard station. "Mr. Franks…"

"Me, sir?" Franks cut him off. Jordan sighed in frustration.

"Relieve Ensign Singer." Rosh finished.

------------------------------------------------------------

Since they had transported to the Battleship Major Riggs and his men had constantly been pushing Hudson to move faster towards the objective. But as they crawled through the Jefferies tube, it was the self proclaimed 'ground pounders' that needed to be urged along. Major Riggs had point and made no complaint about the cramp space, concentrating on a vain attempt to out pace the engineer behind him as he followed Hudson's navigation through the service conduits. Riggs did, however, complain regularly to the men following Hudson. He complained that they had become soft and slow, that it was a miracle they had made it this far against the Jem'Hadar with such weak a company, and most offensive of all, that one of the ten pound heads from the engineering division was in better physical condition than themselves.

"Keep up with the engineer if you can boys." Riggs hollered back at his men.

Lagging a little behind Hudson a soldier shifted the container of trilithium he had slung over his back and tried to quicken the speed of his crawl. He was conscious of his shoulder. It didn't hurt, he could thank the Vulcan doctor for that, but it wasn't as strong as he remembered.

------------------------------------------------------------

The battle was won, one at least. Jordan was handed the dream he had been denied, the helm of a mighty starship in battle. Glorious battle, Captain Torr would have called it, battle worthy of song. He felt he should be happy or excited, and maybe part of him was. But the circumstance that delivered his goal to him, the cost, not to himself but to others, wrenched at another part of him. He pushed it aside best he could as he walked down the passageway towards Sickbay. He knew once he was sitting behind the helm again his troubles on his mind would evaporate and all consciousness would be bent towards the objects in space, all in motion, and how maneuvering his would influence the behavior of the others. Behind the helm it would be easy to ignore unpleasant thoughts, but that helm was still a walk down the corridor and a transport across the void away.

Jordan had been staring at the deck plates as he walked, trying to make his mind as blank as the gray surface that clanked quietly beneath his feet. When the soft clank, clank, clank was joined by a similar but syncopated rhythm coming in the other direction he looked up. "Kizzy." The surprised word escaped Jordan's mouth.

"Jordan," She greeted him with a small smile, "Have you seem Doctor Sovek or Doctor Marion?" She asked.

Jordan opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't. He shook his head no, looking at her with gapping mouth and mournful eyes.

"They left me off the away team for some reason." She huffed. Her brow then furrowed in concern as she noticed the pained expression on Jordan's face. "Are you ok?"

It took all of his will for Jordan to force himself to speak, but when he did "Kizzy, I…" was all he could manage.

"Why aren't you on the bridge?" Kizmet's look of concern for her friend turned expression of confusion.

"They need me on the away team." He shifted his eyes back to the deck while he spoke, unable to look her in the eye. When he glanced up he saw a tear rolling down her cheek.

"Why?" She asked, her voice shaking a little.

"I…" He couldn't continue. Right now she needed a friend, and Jordan could not find the strength to be that friend. He was not behind the helm, he was not in control, so he retreated. "I have to go to sickbay." He stepped by her.

"Jordan." She called turning, her voice a sob. "What's happened?"

He continued to walk, he wiped away the tears welling up in his eyes, and he did not dare turn around.

------------------------------------------------------------

"I'm going on that away team."

Marion and Sovek turned, surprised to see Kizzy, her faced striped with the wet trails of her tears.

Sovek spoke first. "Doctor Kizmet, I left your name off the away team because a skilled doctor will need to remain behind to tend to any injuries sustained by our own crew."

"Then pick someone else to stay behind, I need to be on that away team."

The Vulcan opened his mouth to rebut, but Marion silenced him with a gesture. "Sovek, please." Marion looked at the scared and desperate girl in front of him. "Kizmet, your fiancé is not over there. There is no body. There is no chance of saving him. I do not want to send a Doctor over there that may have her priorities out of order. I need people who will do their duty."

"Skipper?" A confused voice asked.

Marion saw it came from an engineering technician that happened to be passing by. "Yes crewman?"

"Is everything alright, sir?" The crewman asked.

"Why do you ask?" Marion was now slightly puzzled.

"Well…" The crewman stammered. "I thought you would be on the bridge."

"Everything is fine." Marion assured him. "Carry on."

"Aye, sir." The crewman resumed his hurried pace down the passageway.

Marion turned back to Kizmet. "I need people who will do their duty. Can I count on you?"

"I just want to help. I want to do my job." She replied.

"Very well." Marion said. "Doctor Sovek, Kizmet will be taking my place on the away team."

"You wish to remain behind?" Sovek asked.

Marion gazed back in the direction of the crewman. "My duty is on the bridge."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Just a little further." Hudson said, scrutinizing the map on his tricorder. "We have to cross a large shaft, then it's about a fifty meters to engineering."

"Found the shaft." Major Riggs said. Just in front of him was a large circular hole, running as far up and as far down as he could see. A small metal bridge extended across the hole to another service crawl space on the other side. The bridge was smooth with no sides or guard rails and only wide enough to cross singlefile. "Don't look down." Riggs muttered, and he started across it.

Riggs made it across with ease. The lack of any guardrails slowed Hudson's pace a bit, but he made it over. He and Riggs moved back in the Jefferies tube to make room for the rest of the squad. They turned and saw a pulsing light accompanied by a high pitch whine. It was a transporter beam. The light coalesced into three Jem'Hadar soldiers, scattered between the Starfleet marines on the bridge. The Jem'Hadar wasted no time. The Starfleet soldiers screamed as they were shot or kicked off the bridge. Some grabbed at the legs of their attackers and tried to pull them down as they.

The chaos relented for a moment and Hudson saw one Jem'Hadar left standing on the bridge. The Starfleet soldiers were dead or fallen, except one man dangling from the side of the bridge. The man held onto the bridge with one hand, and in the other he held onto a swinging container of trilitium resin.

"How much of a knock can that explosive take?" Riggs asked.

"Uh, not too much." Hudson said.

"Move!" Riggs commanded. When Hudson didn't respond immediately Riggs grabbed him by the shoulder and started dragging the engineer down the Jefferies tube and around a corner.

Under the bridge the Starfleet soldier knew he couldn't pull himself up even if a Jem'Hadar wasn't there. His arm was too weak. Even as the sneering Jem'Hadar began to step on his fingers the pain felt as far away as the pain in his shoulder. The Vulcan had done his job, the man thought, and now there was one last chance to do his own. With his good arm the man swung the container he held up onto the bridge as hard as he could.

A blast of heat thundered pass Hudson and Riggs. It hadn't been a large amount of trilithium, but it wasn't a substance that required great quantities to make it deadly. However, as Major Riggs often told the men he lead, its not how big your weapon is, its where you aim that critical shot. If your aim is true, it takes little force to defeat your enemy. If it is not, you just piss them off. With the explosion in the Jefferies tube, the Starfleet personnel had succeeded in pissing the dominion off.

"Can you still blow the core?" Riggs asked.

Hudson pushed himself up to his knees and found his dropped tricorder. He looked at the map, and then at the Major. "I've got too." He said, then turned and began to crawl. "This way."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Sir, there has just been a large energy surge in the Battleship." Franks reported. "Looks like an internal explosion."

"The dorsal shield generator?" Rosh asked.

Franks shook his head. "All their shields are holding."

"Their power core?"

"I don't think so." Franks replied. "I'm not reading any power fluctuations, just a radiation spike."

"Is that bad?" Someone asked from behind. Startled, Franks and Rosh looked to the back of the bridge.

Rosh spoke first, standing as he did. "It means that one of our teams has detonated their trilitium unsuccessfully."

Marion stared at the Dominion ship on the view screen, and he walked to his chair. A moment passed before he realized the Andorian was still looking at him with an expression Marion would call contentment if he didn't know his XO better. "Is there a problem Lieutenant?"

"Not anymore sir." Rosh replied in his normal all business manner. He turned and assumed the port station. "The Battleship has out flanked the Klingons and is closing on our position."

"Well," Marion sat down in his chair, "The Noble still needs time to recover. Let's hope the Battleship maintains its interest in us. Mr. Franks, move us away from the Noble, best speed."

------------------------------------------------------------

As Federation ships, the Nightingale and Noble shared a distinct aesthetic. The interiors had similar paneling on the bulkheads, the doors and hatches looked the same, even the strips of alert lights running down the corridor, flashing red, looked alike.

Standing in a corridor aboard the Noble, Jordan noted the main difference, the size. He had been aboard plenty of Federation ships. He knew that width of the passage way, that comfortably fit himself and the medical team, was the norm, and the cramp narrow corridors of the Nightingale were the exception.

"Which one of you drives ships?" Someone hollered. Jordan and the medical team turned towards the voice. A commander with a couple of crewmen in tow headed towards the Nightingale's away team with a purpose.

"I do." Jordan said, shuffling the front of the group.

"I'm Commander Elliot, you're with me." The acting Captain said pointing at Singer. "The rest of you follow my men here. They'll take you to engineering."

As the medical was lead away one Doctor remained, staring down a passage way intersecting the one she was standing in.

"Ma'am, you should go with my men." Elliot told her.

"What if there are people down there that need help?" Kizmet asked gesturing down the hall.

"That leads to the main bridge." Elliot said. "There's no one left there."

Kizzy bit her lower lip and nodded as she turned and followed the rest of the medical team.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Doral, how's your progress?" Hudson said quietly after tapping his comm. badge. He and Major Riggs crouched in service tube near the Battleship's main engineering.

"We're on our way now sir." Came Doral's reply. "It took a little time to de-rig the explosive from the shield generator."

"Good job." Hudson tapped his comm. badge again to close the connection.

"I wonder how long we have." Riggs muttered.

"How long for what?"

"How long before the Jem'Hadar locate us in these crawl spaces again." The major craned his head from side to side, looking down the service tube for any threats.

"Hopefully they won't." Hudson pulled out his tricorder and held it up. "I've modified this to mask our bio-signs."

Riggs knodded in approval. "Good thinking."

Hudson sighed and looked away. "I should have thought of it before I got your men killed." He said quietly.

Riggs stopped scanning for threats. He hit Hudson on the shoulder to get his undivided attention and stared directly at him. "Back on MN-1375 I was in command of a platoon tasked with holding a rather strategic land bridge that was the only practical way to cross the canyon it spanned. We had it pretty well defended. Lucky for us there was a plain on the other side of the land bridge. We could see the Jem'Hadar coming from a far way off. They had to retreat to the hills. But then they started to pick us off. One by one my men began to go down." Riggs hand went to the left side of his neck and he rubbed the scared flesh. "It wasn't until I realized our comm. badges and collar insignias were glinting in the sun that the duck shoot stopped. It would have been nice to notice that earlier, but that's not the way these things work. You didn't kill those men, the Jem'Hadar did. What you did do is find a way to give our mission a fighting chance, and you're going to save the Nightingale and the Noble."

"You really think we'll pull this off?" Hudson asked.

Riggs resumed his lookout up and down the service tube. "It better than thinking we can't."

------------------------------------------------------------

"The viridium signatures are heading towards engineering." Rosh reported from the port station of the Nightingale's bridge.

"All of them?" Marion asked. "I thought half were supposed to go to the shield generator."

"They must be taking their trilithium to engineering." Rosh realized.

"But we need that shield down to beam them out." Marion said.

"Sir, I don't think that shield is coming down." Rosh replied.

"The Battleship is closing to weapons range!" The Nightingale shuttered before the words were even out of Frank's mouth.

There was an explosion from the overhead as an EPS conduit overloaded. Sparks showered down over the bridge and pieces of metal were shot across the room. Marion's hand shot to his face as a piece of hot metal grazed his neck. "Mr. Rosh, damage report." Marion demanded once the hot rain of energy subsided.

There was no response. Marion looked over to the port station. Rosh lay back at his station, moaning and clutching at his head. Marion was to his side in a second. He applied pressure to the wound with one hand and the other tapped his comm. badge. "Bridge to sickbay, medical emergency."

"The Klingons are re-engaging the battleship." Franks reported. "We're out of their weapons range."

Rosh felt dazed and confused. He saw a bright light move from one eye to another. Marion slipped the pen light back into his pocket and Rosh's eyes were able to focus a bit. "Sir, your neck is bleeding."

"It's superficial." Marion said. "You've suffered a concussion. I'm having you transported to sickbay." And Marion felt himself wishing he could trade places with his injured XO. "Rosh, I don't know if I can do this with out you." He said quietly.

Rosh felt himself being dragged into unconsciousness, but before he gave in he looked at his superior. The collar of Marion's uniform shirt had absorbed the blood flowing out of the cut in his neck. The blue collar was now stained a dark red. Rosh smiled weakly. "You can. Red suits you."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Attitude control restored." Jordan reported from the helm of the Noble. The controls felt different than the Nightingale's. They responded immediately and with definite power. The Noble had a confidence about her, even it her weakened state. And Jordan had what he always wanted, the helm of a Federation warship.

"Phasers and torpedoes are ready. Shields still offline." Elliot read off the captain's chair's console. He pressed a control activating comms with engineering.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Engineering, this is Commander Elliot. I need my shields back online." The Commander's voice echoed through the huge main engineering space. His call went unanswered. Engineering was in chaos. The crewman that were not incapacitated from injury were fighting fires and praying for some sort of direction.

Sovek held out a vile to doctor Kizmet. "Doctor, you'll need this."

"What is it?" She asked, taking the vile.

"Morphine, amphetamine, and tri-ox." Sovek answered.

"A pain killer and two stimulants?" Kizzy looked at the vile in disgust. "Sovek, this will worsen the condition of many of these men."

"Doctor, we are not here to provide long term treatment. We are here to make this crew capable of executing their duties and getting this ship back in the fight. This may go against your instincts as a physician, but if this ship is not repaired, there will be no patients left alive to treat."

Sovek turned and attended to a crewman suffering from burns before Kizzy could reply. She took a deep breath and walked over to a crewman sitting against a bulkhead. "How are you doing?" She asked him.

"We're going to die." The crewman had his legs pulled up to his chest. His breathing was shallow and he words were forced. "I live in a four man bunk. John was killed two weeks ago, when we got trapped behind the line. Chris died just a few days ago. Brian is lying on the floor over there, he hasn't moved in a long time. I know I'm next."

Kizzy scanned him with her tricorder. "You have a broken rib. You have to let go of your legs to I can treat you."

"It hurts." He said, but he complied and let go of his legs. His eye transfixed on his friend lying on the deck.

"Engineering, I need where are my shields!" Elliot yelled over the comm.

"What part of the ship do you work on?" Kizzy asked the crewman. "Do you work on the shields?"

He shook his head. "The shields won't work. The ripple filter is shot. Unless someone bypasses it they won't get power."

"Can you bypass the ripple filter?" She asked. The crewman didn't respond. She hesitated for a moment, then loaded the vile Sovek had given her into her hypospray and administered an injection. "This will help with the pain. Its hard to loose people close to you, but we still have jobs the crew is counting on us to do. Now I'm going to go help Brian. But I don't want the ship being attacked while I do. Can you bypass the ripple filter and fix the shields?" She asked him. "Can you do that for Brian?"

The crewman began to breathe easier and perk up as the drugs took effect. "Yeah," he said, "I can do that."

------------------------------------------------------------

There was a loud clatter. Riggs put his finger to his lips, signaling Hudosn to be quiet. The Major quickly and quietly crawled around the corner of the service tube so he could see main engineering through a vent grating.

Hudson heard weapons fire and a lot of yelling. Another clank came from around the corner, and the thump, thump, thump of someone hurrying along the crawl space. There was weapons fire, then nothing. Hudson peered around the corner. The grating was gone and Riggs was no where to be seen.

"All clear!" The Major hollered. "You can come out now Ensign."

Hudson crawled out of the service tube into the Battleships main engineering. There were lifeless Jem'Hadar bodies strewn across the deck along with a couple of Starfleet marines. But the rest of First Lieutenant Shay's team stood with rifles ready, covering the entrances.

"He you are, sir." Doral held out the trilithium explosive.

"Thanks." Hudson said, taking the canister. He then took a quick look around the room before stopping in front of a large piece of equipment coming out of the wall.

"That the weakest point?" Riggs gestured at the apparatus Hudson was securing the explosive too.

"It's the dylithium chamber." Hudson replied. "This will blow the reactor wide open. I'm setting the timer for five minutes." He then moved over to an engineering console.

"Why not just blow it now?" Riggs asked. "With the shield generator intact we have no way off this ship."

"We have to warn the Nightingale, so she has enough time to get clear of the blast." Hudson said.

"So what do we do until then?" Doral asked in a shaky voice. All of a sudden one of the doors swooshed open, weapons fire spouted from a ready marine's rifle as he downed an advancing Jem'Hadar soldier.

Riggs looked levelly at Doral. "We hold."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Sir, we're receiving a signal from the Battleship." Franks reported.

Marion checked his own console. "It's a message, 'Five minutes, Hudson'."

"Adjusting course away from the Battleship." Franks said. "I'll get us clear of the blast zone."

Marion slumped a little in his chair. This was not how the plan was supposed to go. But the plan has changed, the some of the trilithium was lost, so his men could not free themselves. Things change, Marion thought, plans change. He sat up. "Wait." He ordered. "We have to get our people off that ship."

"Sir, the battleships shields are at…" Franks scanned his instruments, "forty-seven percent, they're trapped."

"Then we'll have to free them." Marion opened a channel to the Noble and Captain Torr, and explained the situation.

"We will not leave your warriors behind, Nightingale." Torr assured him. "However, our transporters cannot handle that many people at once."

"Noble is ready, our shields just came back online, but are transporters are not functioning." Elliot said.

Marion opened a comm. to engineering. "Chief, what is the status of our transporter?"

"I've been listening in skipper, and the transporters are fine." Chief Reilly replied. "But the shields are shot; we can get you 2 tops. So you're going to have a hard time getting near enough that battleship to use them."

"Sir," Jordan interrupted the conversation from behind the helm of the Noble, "I have an idea about that."

------------------------------------------------------------

"It's your show kid." Elliot said.

"We need everyone to target the Battleship's dorsal shield. We'll beam our people out through there." Jordan said.

Elliot relayed the order to the Klingons. "And how are you going to get the Nightingale close enough with no shields?"

"She'll have a shield." Jordan said. "Us." His mind slipped into a familiar frame. Objects in space, all have a direction, all had a speed. How he moved the ones he held control over would influence the movement of the ones he didn't.

"Franks, set course two seven four mark one, half impulse power." Jordan commanded. Franks complied.

The Nightingale turned, showing its broadside to the battleship. The battleship, fighting through the Klingons hammering assault on its dorsal shield, set and intercept course for the Nightingale. Jordan then set the Noble into motion. He adjust her attitude so she shared the same orientation as the battleship and he set his course to lead the battleship.

When the Noble was in range it opened up on the Battleship with photon torpedoes. "Their dorsal shield is beginning to buckle." Elliot said.

Jordan adjusted his course and speed. His positioning would be crucial. The Noble entered phaser range of the Battleship, and every functioning battery lanced out at the enemy in fiery red beams.

"We're almost in weapons range of the Battleship!" Franks heart was pounding, he thought it may leap out of his chest.

"Franks," Jordan's voice came over the comm., "hard to starboard! Course zero one two mark zero, three quarters impulse!"

"But that would take us directly at the Battleship, and we have no shields!" Franks pleaded.

"Turn the ship, Mr. Franks!" Marion ordered. "Turn it now!"

Franks hands were shaking, but he entered the new course and speed.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Hold on." Jordan warned Elliot. He threw the Noble into emergency reverse, and rotated the ship ninety degrees. They came to a complete stop so that the Battleship saw nothing but the massive oval of the Noble's saucer. The Dominion ship fired at it as if it were a huge bullseye.

"Singer," Franks called over the comm., "we're heading directly for your ship."

"Full impulse, Franks." Jordan commanded. "Be ready with those transporters."

"We're ready, Mr. Singer." Marion came back.

The Battleship was slowing. Jordan knew it would turn soon to avoid a collision, he just had to help it turn the right way.

"Their dorsal shield has collapsed, but I don't know for how long." Elliot said. "Whatever you got in mind, do it now."

Jordan waited one second longer. All the objects were in place. He activated the Noble's thrusters again, rotating the ship ninety degrees in the opposite direction. The Battleship dipped its bow, diving to avoid a collision. The Nightingale remained on course, sailing just under the Noble's saucer as it moved out of the way, and just over top of the Battleship.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Energizing transporter." Marion said.

"Sickbay to bridge!" Hudson's frantic voice came over the comm. "All souls aboard! Sixty seconds to detonation!"

"You heard the man, Mr. Franks." Marion said. "Get us out of here!"

The Nightingale moved off at its best speed as did the Noble and Captain Torr's ships. The Battleship erupted into a ball of white light, the dark metal of its menacing hull was annihilated into streaks of pure energy as the antimatter from its reactor consumed the ship. The Nightingale rocked one last time in the wake of the explosion. Then it was over.

The bridge was silent for some time, until Marion spoke. "Engineering, damage report."

"We're pretty banged up, but we could squeeze out warp four if you don't give us too many bumps." Chief Reilly replied.

"Commander Marion." Elliot appeared on the view screen, standing behind Jordan. "I wanted to thank you. Your ship," he placed his hand on Jordan's shoulder, "and your crew, saved our lives."

Marion smiled. "Commander Elliot, this ship's mission is one of life."

The viewscreen split and Captain Torr appeared on one side. "Qa'pla, Nightingale. We honor you as fellow warriors today, and we await your command."

"My Command." Marion found meaning in the words he never knew existed before that moment. "My command is to set course for Starbase 375, warp four. Let's go home."

29


	10. No Matter What Your End

**Chapter 10: No Matter What Your End**

Ensign Jordan Singer gracefully pulled the Phlox, a federation runabout, away from the Nightingale. He set his course towards the large starbase the Nightingale was orbiting. Jordan looked back at the hospital ship just returned from the frontlines, the Federation grey of its hull was interrupted by black scorch marks courtesy of the Jem'Hadar and their Battleship's disruptors.

He checked his course and speed again before opening a channel to Starbase 375's docking control. "Docking control, this is the Runabout Phlox, request docking clearance."

He was cleared and set the Phlox down in the starbase's maintenance bay. He hopped down onto the deck, noting the slight shift in gravity as his body crossed the door's threshold was greater than normal. Phlox's gravity generators were off, but that was expected, considering what it had been through.

Jordan handed the runabout over to the starbase's maintenance crew. He straightened his dress uniform and began to walk towards the door, but he was stopped by a passing Ensign. "Did you just bring that runabout in?" The Ensign asked, pointing at the Phlox. The underbelly of the runabout, damaged by its forced landing in a forest, looked like someone had tried to scrape it off. "Looks like you've seen some serious action."

"Some." Jordan said, offering half a smile. "We just got back from the front."

"Wow. I just got orders to the USS Centaur. She's a small ship, but we'll be heading to the front soon. I'm hoping to make a difference in this fight."

"Its tough out there, good luck." Jordan said to the excited Ensign.

"Looks that way." The Ensign glanced back at the Phlox. "What kind of ship are you on."

"The USS Nightingale, it's a hospital ship." The Ensigns eyes went wide at the response.

------------------------------------------------------------

"You missed it." Hudson whispered as Jordan slipped into the back of the room. To one side there were large floor to ceiling windows. In the center were chairs set up in rows, but most of the people in attendance were now going to meet the receiving party standing at the front of the room.

"I got held up." Jordan said. "How was it?"

"It was a funeral." Hudson replied.

"Yeah." Jordan said. And he let the silence hang in the air for a moment. "How's she holding up?"

"You could ask her." Hudson said.

Jordan looked to the front of the room where those in attendance were conveying their condolences to Kizmet.

------------------------------------------------------------

Kizzy recognized some of the people offering their regrets. They were her colleagues, the crew from the Nightingale, even a few of her Klingon patients. But most of them she didn't know. They were crew from the Noble, Jacob's friends and shipmates. Each one telling her what a good man her fiancé was. Each one telling her what she already knew.

"We met. Commander Elliot said. "Briefly, in the passage way on the Noble, you were on the away team."

"Yes, I suppose we did." She replied.

"His quarters are intact. I'll have his things sent to you ship.

"Thank you."

"He said something to me once. I was writing one of those letters husbands sometimes do before heading into battle. The ones that say all the things you wish you had." Elliot paused. "He didn't write one. Jacob told me he hadn't left anything unsaid. He told me that's why he loved you, how he knew you were the one."

Kizzy felt her throat choking up and she put her hand to her mouth to cover her involuntary frown. The room got blurry as her eyes glazed over with oncoming tears she fought back. "Thank you." She finally managed. Then she caught sight of something in the back of the room. It was Jordan. Their eye locked. She thought his gaze looked like one of pain or concern or even understanding, maybe a little of each. Whatever the case she did not want to look away. And for a moment she felt as if they were the only two in the room. She gazed into his eyes and huddled in them for warmth. Then, he looked away.

------------------------------------------------------------

Jordan felt Kizzy catch his stare. He looked away after holding her gaze for too long. "I have to go." He muttered and started for the door.

Hudson grabbed his arm. "Where are you going?"

"I can't be here Hud. I can't do this, not now."

"Then when?" Hudson asked. "She needs a friend now."

Jordan freed his arm and walked out the door. It swooshed close behind him and he was alone in the corridor. He stood there for awhile, staring at the deck.

The doors swooshed open. "Jordan."

"I really don't want to hear it Hud." Jordan said as the doors swooshed close again.

"Who is Hud, Ensign Singer?"

Jordan turned around and felt like even more of an idiot. "Commander Elliot, I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else."

Elliot nodded in understanding. "I've been meaning to talk to you. I've been given command of the Noble. We have been made one of the maintenance priorities, we'll ship out as soon as repairs are done. I have to re-man my ship, and I need a lead helmsman."

Jordan didn't know what to say. He looked at Elliot, then he looked at the door holding the memorial behind it. "Sir, we're at the funeral of the man I would be replacing."

"I know, it's not the soul of tact. You don't have to answer right away, but I'm pressed for time, and I need to get my ship manned." Elliot patted Jordan on the shoulder and waked off.

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"Did you know him?" Major Riggs asked.

"Lt. Millen?" Franks asked in return, looking to the large picture set in the place of honor in lue of the body. He shook his head, "No, I never met him."

"Me neither, but funerals aren't held for the dead." Riggs motioned towards the picture. "They're to remind us why he died, what he died for. To let our men know that they'll be remembered if they meet the same fate. It's the same reason we give medals."

"I'd rather have a medal." Franks forced a smile.

Riggs patted him on the back. "Wouldn't we all?"

------------------------------------------------------------

Lieutenant Rosh had to grab the frame of the door as he entered Marion's quarters.

"How's your head?" Marion asked.

"The head is fine, but I sprained one of my antennae." Rosh gingerly touched the left of the two protrusions sprouting out of his head. "My balance will be off for a few days while it heals."

"Then by all means, sit." Marion stood quickly and helped his XO to the chair across his desk.

"Thank you, sir. What did you want to see me about?"

Marion took his own seat again and picked up a PADD. "Your report on the last two weeks."

"I completed it this morning and sent it to Admiral Ross."

"It's not complete." Marion said. "It says here we 'happened across a Maquis outpost after noticing a divergence in the plasma storm's energy.'"

"And that is the truth sir."

"Maybe," Marion sighed, "but it is not the complete truth."

"Sir, the complete truth would implicate you as a Maquis sympathizer. You could be charged with treason."

"Only because I could be guilty of it."

"But you were only maintaining your oath as a Doctor to save lives. You are capable Commanding Officer and Starfleet is in need of your services."

"I'm honored you think so Mr. Rosh, I really am, but you are justifying. Being in command means accepting the consequences of all my decisions, good or bad."

Rosh nodded. "I will correct the report."

Marion nodded back, "And I will deliver it myself. I suspect there will be some questions to answer."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Plomeek Soup." Sovek command the replicator in the galley. Nothing happened. "Plomeek Soup." He said again, louder.

"The replicators are offline." Hudson's voice called from a table across the room. "I've turned off all ship service, replicators, laundry, hot water."

"For the repairs?" Sovek asked as he walked over to the Ensign's table.

Hudson nodded. "Yup, but the starbase has plenty of open rooms with private laundry and replicators."

"If the replicators are all off, why are you sitting here alone?" Sovek asked.

"I suppose that is a logical question." Hudson chuckled, but lost his humor quickly when he answered. "I'm actually trying to write a letter to the parents of Crewman Adkins, he was killed when the Jem'Hadar attacked us in the badlands."

"I knew him." Sovek sat down at the table across from Hudson. "He kept my medical equipment in working order while I operated during the battle.

"Every time I try to finish the letter… I don't know, I guess I try to imagine how Mr. and Mrs. Adkins will feel reading it, and nothing sounds good enough. Could you help me? Maybe give me some advice un-muddled by human emotion."

"What do you have so far?"

Hudson lifted the PADD and read, "Dear Mr. & Mrs. Adkins," He put the PADD down. "I'm kind of stuck after that."

"This war took my son. It was...difficult." He contemplated his response for a moment. "Possibly against logic, I find myself wondering what my son was doing the day before he died and what he would have done the day after, had he survived. Before he joined Starfleet I was familiar with his daily routine and his daily accomplishments, as I am sure Crewman Adkins' parents were similarly knowledgably of their son's life. However, once they left home that familiarity with their lives waned. Mr. and Mrs. Adkins know who their son was when he left them. My advice is to let them know who their son was when he met his end."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Come." Rosh answered the chime at his door.

"You wanted to see me, sir." Jordan said, straightening to a position of attention as his XO's manner seemed to demand.

"Why are you still on my ship Ensign Singer?" Rosh did not look up from his computer console.

"Sir?"

This time Rosh put the PADD down and looked directly into Jordan's eyes. "Commander Elliot told me he offered you the helm of the Noble, so why are you still here?"

"I was under the impression that the choice to stay or go was mine, sir."

"So you've chosen to stay?"

Unconsciously Jordan's eyes looked to away when he answered. "I haven't chosen, sir."

"Commander Elliot doesn't have time to wait Ensign. The Noble will be underway in less than a week."

"A week?" Jordan was surprised. "It has a hole in its saucer."

"It's getting a new one. The stardrive section of the USS Venture was destroyed two weeks ago in the Typhon sector, its saucer was able to accomplish an emergency separation and save some of the crew. The crew and the saucer will join the stardrive of the Noble. Commander Elliot needs an answer, and I need to know if I should start looking for a new helmsman."

"If I may ask, sir, what would you choose?"

"What I wanted most." Rosh replied without hesitation. "You probably already know what it is. Don't worry about who you'll disappoint or what you think others want. This is your career, your decision."

"What I want is to make a difference." Jordan answered.

"That you can do anywhere," Rosh said, "it just comes down to what type of difference you want to make."

------------------------------------------------------------

"You're not going to hold me here now, are you?" Chief Reilly asked as he helped up on the examination table. He had insisted that he could find the starbase's sickbay fine on his own the entire way, but the pretty young doctor had insisted on leading him there.

"I hear you found your way to engineering and fixed the ship during the battle. I think even if I tried to keep you here, you'd find a way to sneak off." Kizzy tried to sound upbeat, but failed.

"You sound like you have the weight of the galaxy on your shoulders, little darling."

"It's been a long day." They were both silent as Kizzy examined the chief's eyes with her equipment. "My fiancée's funeral was today." She finally said when the silence became too much.

"I know." Reilly replied. "I figured you probably heard enough condolences for one day. Sometimes people just don't know when to shut up and let you feel sorry for yourself."

"But being alone is just as painful."

"Like your whole world went dark and nobody is there to let the light in again."

"Oh God, Chief. I'm so sorry I wasn't able to get you the Ketracel White in time."

Reilly dismissed the apology with a waive of his hand. "You don't owe me an apology. You tried, almost got your pretty little head killed over it. Sometimes we loose things we think we can't live without, that's life. And you get to feel sorry for yourself, and you get to be alone and ask, 'why me?' Then you realize this is happening, this is the way it's going to be."

"And what do you do then?" Kizzy didn't know if they were talking about eyesight, Jacob, or someone else.

"Whatever you can, whatever gets you through the day. You lost this thing, and you never ever imagined living without it, but it's gone and you're not dead. So you do what you can. I'm getting those implants. Starfleet is getting there twenty years from me if they like it or not."

------------------------------------------------------------

Jordan made sure to turn the socks were right-side-out before he shoved them into the duffle bag. Behind him the door swooshed open as his roommate entered.

"Going already Jordo? You know we have quarters in a couple hours." Hudson said.

"I know. I just want to be ready to go." Jordan shoved the last of the clothes into the duffle and zipped it up. "Done. How's your letter coming?"

"Done." Hudson said, holding up his PADD. "Did you talk to her yet?"

Jordan huffed in frustration. "And say what? I told her Jacob was alive when she thought he was dead, then I took that away from her less than an hour later. I couldn't even tell her he was really dead, she read it from the stupid look on my face. You tell me how I can help her, how I can do anything but be a constant reminder of the second time she lost the love of her life."

Hudson spoke softly. "You know why you told her Jacob was alive, and you know the reason she was able to read your face like a book, it's because you're her friend."

"And I want to be more than that." Jordan said, raising his voice. "How do I stand there and tell her I'm sorry her fiancée died when part of me always wished he wasn't around? I mean, we're back here, we're safe, and I can't help but wish I was back on raft in the middle of some unnamed planet's ocean."

The understanding left Hudson's voice. "You seem to be feeling pretty sorry for yourself for someone that's been asked to perform his dream job, helmsman of a warship."

"His job, Hud."

"So what? You've been handed everything you wanted, Kizzy's had everything snatched away. If you really cared about her, you would stand by her now."

Jordan looked away and shook his head. "Why do you care so much?"

Hudson sighed. "Because I'm watching a friend in agony as they realize their life is not turning out the way they thought it would."

"Then you go talk to her."

"I wasn't talking about her."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Blake!" A smile stretched across Admiral Ross's face as he walked out from behind his desk to greet his old friend.

"Hello Bill." Marion said, shaking Ross's hand. "Next time you need a favor, the answer is no."

Ross laughed. "At least I was right to ask, you did a hell of a job out there. Every after action report that has come across my desk has ended in retreat or defeat until the Nightingale came home." He patted Marion on the shoulder. "That color suits you."

Unconsciously Marion adjusted the collar of the red shirt peaking through hi collar. "My blue ones were dirty." He joked. "And somewhat inappropriate for the Skipper of a Starfleet vessel."

"I've signed both requests you submitted with your report." Ross sat down again and shuffled through a stack of PADDs until he found the two he wanted. "Be sure to extend my congratulations to the awardees and your entire crew.

"I will." Marion took a deep breath. "Did you get to read the revisions to the after action report I sent you?"

The smile faded on Ross's face. He leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands in front of him. "I did. It was a surprise. Especially after I had just finished drafting this letter." Ross handed Marion a PADD.

"This is a promotion letter to the rank of Commander." Marion said reading the PADD. Marion handed the PADD back. "My association with the Maquis is still a crime and I am prepared to accept the consequences of my actions."

"I lost over ninety ships in a single engagement last week. I also lost the experience of their Commanding Officers; I can't afford to lose anymore. Luckily I am a Starfleet Admiral during a time of war, so I have wide discretion in matters of discipline." Ross stood. "Commander Marion, you are hereby demoted back to Lieutenant Commander. But in consideration of your recent meritorious service you will retain your command of the USS Nightingale."

"Thank you, Bill."

"Just don't do it again." Ross replied smiling once again.

"No need to fear of that." Marion said, returning the smile. "Now, have you been able to get any information on the Nevlian Esco, or the man named Sloan?"

The Admiral shook his head. "Starfleet Intelligence says they've never heard of either of them. We have received a few unsubstantiated reports of the Dominion disguising there ships to appear to be Starfleet."

"If that was a Dominion ship that abducted us, why weren't reinforcements sent when we escaped? Not to mention the holographic simulation they put us in was a simulation of a Dominion ship. It doesn't make sense."

"It is baffling." Ross agreed. "And I found out one more piece of information that makes this all a little more confusing. We can find no record of a race called Nevlian or any variation. We can even find a race matching the medical scans your Doctor Kizmet provided. But we did find that nevlian is a word in Dominionese."

"What doe it mean?" Marion asked.

"Shamed one."

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The Runabout Phlox had been moved to the Starbase for repair and the Runabout McCoy still rested on the surface of some unnamed planet, but the shuttle bay of the USS Nightingale was surprisingly full. The crew was there, as directed, and they were joined by former patients, some marines, and of course the Klingons. They were all facing where the shuttlebay door would have been, if it had not been opened, and the force field engaged, to provide a view of the massive starbase floating in the ether as a backdrop to the proceedings.

The space echoed with applause as Marion pinned the new pips on Hudson's collar. "Congratulations, Lieutenant Junior Grade Hudson." The CO said when he was done. Hudson shook Marion's hand then rejoined the crew.

When the applause died down Marion addressed the audience. "Lieutenant Hudson was scheduled for regular promotion in three months, but his superb performance of his duties and demonstration of leadership these past weeks proved that promotion was long over due." Another round of clapping and cheers filled the bay. "Now, Ensign Jordan Singer, front and center."

Jordan was surprise to hear himself called. He shuffled out of the formation and walked towards Marion. Rosh was handing the skipper a small box, then the XO took position a few meters away, came to attention and raised a PADD so he could read it.

"Attention to citation." Rosh command when Jordan was in front of the CO. The Starfleet personnel immediately came to attention. The civilian doctors imitated the posture a moment later. Rosh continued, "For heroism and extraordinary achievement in spatial flight as Helmsman of the USS Nightingale, in action against enemy Dominion forces in the vicinity of the Badlands. Assuming the helm of USS Nightingale, Ensign Singer skillfully navigated the intense plasma storms of the Badlands. Although the USS Nightingale was heavily damaged, Ensign Singer out maneuvered two perusing Jem'Hadar Assault ships, resulting in their destruction. His courage and devotion to duty were in keeping with the highest traditions of the United Federation of Planet's Starfleet. I am pound to confer on Ensign Jordan Singer, the Starfleet Distinguished Flying Cross. Signed Admiral William Ross."

The cheers were deafening as Marion took the medal out of the small box and pinned it on Joradn's uniform. And then they descended on him, patting him on the back and shaking his hand. Eventually Jordan found himself face to face with Rosh.

"I understand you've made your decision." Rosh said.

Jordan nodded. "I'm meeting Commander Elliot in an hour."

Rosh extended his hand. "Congratulations."

"Thank you, sir." Jordan said shaking Rosh's hand. "I know Commander Marion isn't an expert of Starfleet tradition, so thank you, sir, very much."

"Don't thank me Mr. Singer," Rosh gestured towards another officer, "thank Mr. Franks. He recommended you for the award."

Jordan was patted on the back by a couple of engineering technicians and nurses as he walked over to the operations officer. "I really don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything. As your superior officer, it is my duty to praise when appropriate." Franks said.

"All the same, I appreciate it. Thanks Clark."

Franks smiled. "You're welcome Jordan."

Their words were almost lost as Captain Torr's voice boomed through the bay. He sang in Klingon, "quv Daq Hom 'Iv tob Daq taH HoS!" His men quickly joined in.

Everyone in the shuttle bay looked towards the unlikely choir as they sang, everyone but Jordan. He looked to the back of the crowd where, standing alone, he was Kizzy. Their eyes locked. The Klingon song seemed to fade away, and for a moment she felt as if they were the only two in the room.

Crewman Doral them patted Jordan on the back and offered his congratulations. When Jordan looked back he saw Kizzy walking away.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Well it seems very uplifting." Marion said to Rosh. "I wonder what its about."

"Us." Rosh replied, handing a PADD to Marion. "Captain Torr wrote it shortly after we first parted ways."

Marion read the translation.

Honored are the weak,

Who prove to be the strong

Honored is the Night Bird

Hear her valiant song

The Night Bird who swooped down from heaven just to save her own

Who protected them in the days of storm, far, far from home

Who gave her blood to defeat the beasts that pursued her through the sky

Who invited the beast in one night, so it may hear her battle cry

The Night Bird bruised and broken

The Night Bird barely alive

Joined us warriors in battle

So that we may survive

Night Bird be our brother

Night bird be our friend

Night Bird know your victory

No matter what your end

------------------------------------------------------------

Jordan took the long way to the transporter, walking all the way aft from his quarters just so he could pass through the shuttlebay before he left. He wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because it was where he watched the Noble leave him behind two weeks earlier. Maybe it was because he wasn't ready to do what he was about to. Or maybe he just liked the shuttlebay. He was alone and his steps produced a metallic echo as he strolled across the deck. The shuttlebay door had been left open, and the silence in the bay was a stark contrast to the bustling activity of the starships surrounding Starbase 375.

After a moment Jordan shifted the duffle bag on his shoulder and turned towards the door to sickbay. The large doors opened after sensing his presence and pulled back to allow access to the central space of the Nightingale. Like the shuttlebay, the sickbay was empty, save one person. Kizmet looked up to the door, startled at its opening.

"Hi." She said.

"Hey." He replied, mad at the want to turn and walk away he felt in his gut.

"You're leaving now?" She asked.

Jordan nodded. "I have to meet with Commander Elliot."

"I saw you at the funeral." She felt sorry for the words immediately, but didn't know why. "I'm glad you came, it meant a lot."

"Yeah, well I wanted to say… you know." He didn't know how to finish the sentence, 'I'm sorry your fiancé is dead' just seemed hollow and hurtful.

"I know." She said. "Thank you."

"I saw you at the awards quarters." Jordan said.

"I would of…" She trailed off. "There were just so many people."

"I know." And the awkward wards failed them and they stared at each other in silence.

It was Jordan who finally looked away and spoke again. "So, are you staying onboard? Or are you going home?"

She signed and looked at the floor. "You know I can't go home. Anywhere I go I'll be an outsider." She looked into his caring eyes. "Every time I ask myself where I want to go, I can't help but think of when we were in the raft. I don't know why I think of that."

"I do." Jordan said quietly.

A small smile crept across Kizzy's lips. "I guess I do too." Her smile faded and her expression became more mournful again. "I don't want you to go Jordan. There's no one here… I just wish you would stay."

"I'm not going anywhere Kizzy." He said.

"What? I thought you were reporting to the Noble."

"Yes, but only to tell Commander Elliot I'm staying onboard the Nightingale."

She looked at the duffle over his shoulder. "But your bag…"

"Dirty clothes." He said, smiling gently. "Hud turned off the laundry, I was going to run a load on the starbase while I talked to Elliot."

"Jordan, I…" She threw her arms around him.

He froze in surprise, but after a moment as he felt the warmth of her body sneak into his, he hugged her back. They held the embrace for a long time. When they finally let go of each other they both turned away, not sure where to go from there. They stared out the open door of the shuttlebay and watched the ships slowly orbit the starbase. When the Noble wandered into view Kizzy looked back at Jordan.

"You're giving up your dream. To helm a ship like that."

"No I'm not." Jordan said, looking at the massive starship. "Because here, on this ship, I make a difference."

**The End**

11


End file.
